


Bound to the Light

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: Bound to the Light [1]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, Ch.30 is Explicit there’s no way around that sorry, Conflicted Kylo/Ben, Damerey Endgame, F/M, Force Bonds, Force Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Protective Poe Dameron, Shared Trauma, Slow Burn, That's Not How The Force Works, Torture, Unrequited Love, ch. 46 update is previews/questions, depictions of violence, everyone's pining, the slow burn may be over but the angst is here to stay, time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 17:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 166,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: After the Battle of Crait, Poe Dameron still suffers from the torture he faced at the hands of Kylo Ren and struggles to come to terms with the losses incurred from his failed attempt to take on the First Order. The Resistance's resident Jedi, a beautiful young woman from a desert planet, becomes a central part of his healing, and his life.Reeling from her inability to save Ben Solo, Rey tries to navigate the still existent bond between her and Kylo Ren. The dashing Resistance pilot, Poe Dameron, brings a brightness to her life, even as he suffers underneath his cocky demeanor. She hopes that it isn't her lifelong search for somewhere to belong that's convincing her that her place is by his side.Kylo Ren doesn't know his place in all this, not anymore. Is he meant to be Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader? Or will he give way to Ben Solo once more, captivated by a Scavenger who awakened the Light within him? He's beginning to realize that commanding the First Order may not be his destiny, after all.





	1. Preface

_Bound to the Light_

“So, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?”  The words crowd out the corner of Poe’s mouth quickly, in an attempt to go undetected. As if Leia Organa, former Princess, current stateswoman and _Force-Sensitive_ military tactician, could overlook anything.

Poe stands, his posture as guilty as posture can be, arms folded behind his back, shoulder to shoulder with his co-conspirator.

Leia arches a brow perfectly, her mouth a durasteel line. It’s the same look that’s made Senators tremble and war-lords surrender. It has a slightly less potent effect on the troublemakers in front of her. The troublemakers who’d stolen her errant husband’s speeder and gone on a dangerous joy ride around the outskirts of Naboo. She takes a deep breath and prays to the Maker for strength in facing her current adversaries.

Both dark-haired and broad for boys of ten, brothers in all things but blood, they mirror each other exactly without having to look over. Leia stares at them both individually, clasping her hands on their opposite shoulders, and leaning in for maximum impact.

“Neither of you have to talk first. I’m not angry with you two. This is hardly the first foolhardy thing I’ve witnessed in my years, and, I’m relieved that neither of you were hurt.” The boys’ faces erupt into twin grins, shoulders jostling and ecstatic with the belief that they’ve gotten off. Leia smiles to herself, and goes in for the kill. “However, I expected so much more from both of you. I’ve been so proud of your work on our trip here, but today you could have undone all of that.” The smiles fade as both boys blanch in horror.

Leia presses on, without mercy: “I’m deeply, deeply disappointed in the choices you’ve made this afternoon. You’re both dismissed to reflect on what you’ve done, and I expect to see both of you in your quarters at 21:00.” They don’t wait much longer, bowing respectfully to Senator Organa, and turning to leave. She hears their pace pick up as they round the corner, and senses the pushing match that leads them to break into a sprint as they head back outside. She shakes her head, still smiling, and turns to the droid next to her.

“Threepio, be a dear, and arrange for a clean-up of that wrecked speeder before someone starts asking questions.”

**  

Sunlight streams down on Poe’s face as he tumbles into a field, rolling on the grass laughing wildly. “Your _face!_ You were _useless_ in there!” he roars in delight. “I didn’t think you were ever going to talk again!”

“Well, I’ve been a lifetime of disappointment for the great Leia Organa, I’d hate to break pattern now.” His best friend’s voice has deepened over the last few months, a sign of his growth and symbolic of the changes that are just beginning to affect their lives.

“Too afraid to talk to his mother. The future of the Jedi, indeed,” Poe enunciates in a near-perfect mimicry of Leia’s Senate-approved accent.

Next to him on the grass, Ben Solo rests his head on his crossed arms and rolls his eyes. “How about we make a rule. You talk first. And I’ll be there to drag your ass out of trouble.”

“Deal,” Poe huffs out. The boys are quiet for a moment, staring at the clear blue sky.

“It was your idea,” Ben mutters into the comfortable silence.

“Ugh, you _nerf herder._ ”

                                   

***

 

“So, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” Poe asks weakly, a village in flames burning at his back, something else entirely burning at his eyes.

Everything that follows teaches Poe that he has never really understood pain.

 


	2. The Last Jedi

_I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board._

Pain is a swirling wreath around his head. 

_If they move, stun 'em._

He's hurt so many people.

_It's in a droid. A BB-8 unit._

It's all his fault.

_Comfortable?_

It's all his fault.

_You're demoted._

That's no more than he deserves. Pathetic excuse for a mutinying pilot. The pain is never-ending, he screams, consumes by the fire,  _darkness rises up_ \--

_You know I can take whatever I want._

That's...not his memory.

_Kriff, Maker, Ben, Force, someone, someone help me._

**_Give. Me. Skywalker._ **

Another voice screaming in pain, cutting through the darkness, and he gasps for air, jolting upright--

He wakes to a transport ship, watching the last hope for the Resistance through a viewport. As despair floods in, he can't help but feel a quiet desperation that seems unshared by the other Rebels. He stares, not at the  _Raddus,_ the ship they've abandoned, but at  _The Supremacy,_ the hulking flagship they're fleeing from. The screams from his blaster-induced unconsciousness nag at him. Someone very important needs his help, and he feels a choking grief that he's unable to provide it to her. 

_Rey._

The name comes, unbidden to his mind. No distinguishable voice, more of a feeling. A knowledge. A Force. Grasping onto the feeling, he holds it within his chest to help it grow. If he holds Shara's ring tight in his hand as he does so, he'd never admit it. Not even in the grip of the First Order's best interrogator. 

Once the feeling is properly suffused in hope, Poe nudges it outward, towards the  _Supremacy._ He prays to the Maker that it's enough.  

 

**

Snoke is dead. His guard is dead, at her hands. And Ben’s. Ben Solo, who is now looking at her like she holds the secrets to the universe in her small, calloused hands.

She feels a splinter in her chest as he asks her to join him. Begs. She’s still caught up on his casual dismissal of her family, of herself, as _nobody._ She feels like nothing. She feels nothing. He promises her something.

“You’re nobody. But not to me.” _You’re everything to me,_ goes unsaid. Rey doesn’t have a lot of experience in other people and how to talk to them, but there is something both incredibly exhilarating and incredibly terrifying in the promise he makes her. She’s unsure if she wants to be anybody’s everything. She’s very unsure if she wants to rule a galaxy. Rey’s just starting to figure out how to be human, how to figure out her place in all this. To add “Supreme Leader 2.0 of the Entire Galaxy and Possible Consort to the Terrible and Honorable Kylo-Ben Solo-Ren” to that pile of issues is a little much right now.

Rey is so very tired, though. Snoke had been torturing her for endless minutes just moments before. And Ben had just let that happen. Snoke had ripped through her mind, just as his apprentice had, not even a week prior on _Starkiller._ She had a potential family, minutes ago. Ben ripped that away too.

 _You want too much,_ she thinks. _Could I ever be enough?_ He stiffens, possibly feeling her doubt through their ridiculous, impossible Bond.

“Please.” He whispers. She feels the word more than she hears it. Rey understands, instinctively, that Ben Solo, Kylo Ren, whoever he is, does not just ask for things. Neither does she, but that hadn’t stopped her from begging him to not do this, to please come back with her, to turn away from this path.

It’s not stopping either of them. Rey feels the darkness creeping up on her, the same slimy, welcoming pit that had beckoned her, crooning, a siren of false promises, back on Anch-To. False promises were better than no promises, at this point. Her hand twitches, and she slowly reaches up, to mirror the touch they’d shared back in her hut before Master Luke had interrupted and—

A feeling of pure, thrilling Light courses through her. With it comes serenity. Peace. Compassion. There’s no plausible reason for her to feel this, but it thrums to life inside of her, nonetheless.

It had felt like this, briefly, back in the forest as she held Anakin Skywalker’s saber for the first time, crossed blades with the man in front of her—just as torn now as he was then, in the face of his own father’s murder—as she had closed her eyes and let the Light wash over her.

But it’s so much more powerful now. It reaches every part of her broken, tired mind, not healing, but sustaining. Promising more than a broken boy with a shivering lightsaber ever could. This feels like sunlight, green plans, rushing water. It feels like _laughter,_ like the swoop in her stomach when Finn came back for her. It feels like Han Solo offering her a job, like the first time she’d successfully completed a flight in the simulator back on Jakku. It feels like—

_Poe._

It’s a name she’s familiar with, but not one she has a face to match with. Somehow she knows that she cannot lose this fight. There’s another fight she must help with, one bigger than her, and bigger than a boy with sad eyes and a dying ember of good swathed in so many layers of cruelty and malice.

All of these thoughts have overcome her in the short amount of time it had taken her to move her wrist upward. As she redirects, Ben’s face changes from one of tentative happiness to absolute scorn. He must have sensed the shift in the Force. He reacts as she continues moving her arm upwards, yanking Anakin’s lightsaber out of his loosened grasp.

They both reach out, the Dark and the Light rising to meet each other once again; snarling, crackling energy divides them once more in the ferocious battle for balance.

***

**

The heroic stand by Luke Skywalker has bought the Rebels some time, but Poe fears that it won’t be enough as they’re backed into a dead end. Finn is almost no help strategizing, as a girl who seems to be the focus of his world is currently laid out on a medevac pallet, his hands on her head as he leans in to whisper unheard reassurances in her ear. Poe’s also afraid that his buddy will be all too happy to die here if it means not leaving her—Rose—behind. Poe’s very afraid that he’s never had a chance to feel that way about anyone in his life.

This might be the end. But then again:

The rocks lift, seemingly of their own accord. Poe and the other Rebels look on in absolute awe as sunlight filters into the cave, and they stumble out into bitter air of Crait. The rocks, the thousands and thousands of pounds of rocks, hang in the air, almost artistically. He moves through them slowly, and then freezes, as if in a trance. And he may as well be in a trance, because there she is.

Something inside of him hums. Poe chalks it up to the wonder of seeing her do this. She’s resplendent, the sun catching her brown hair and turning it a glowing chestnut, eyes closed almost peacefully as if this incredible physical feat is part of her daily routine that she could do, well, with her eyes closed. It’s not his most clever thought, but he’s facing the most beautiful thing in the galaxy.

Somewhere in his stupor, he misses Finn tensing with excitement, and he’s pushed slightly out of the way as his friend barrels towards her, this vision of power and Light. She’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop Finn from throwing his arms around her, shouting wildly as he does.

To her absolute credit, not a single rock wavers from her control as she laughs and returns the hug. She ushers the survivors onboard the Millennium Falcon—because of course this woman saved their hides in the coolest ship of all time, having executed several flying moves that he’d sweat to attempt in an X-wing—and Poe brings up the rear as the rest of the Rebels whoop and break into action. She turns to him smiling, the burning light of the pure Force gone from her face, replaced by something much more warm, and much more _her._ She looks him in the face, big hazel eyes and a small, pert nose. He sticks his hand out abruptly, like an idiot, and introduces himself.

“I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

She smiles and _Maker_ he was not prepared for this. If he had felt relief as the sun broke through those rocks minutes before, it’s nothing compared to basking in the bright, beautiful light that is her smile.

“I’m Rey,” she tells him, almost teasingly. He recognizes her voice after a beat. It was the one that had called out to him in the transport ship.

“I know,” he says, half-flirtation, and half-wonderment. She laughs all the same, delighted. Poe is enchanted, and almost forgets to let go of her hand at a moderately socially-appropriate time.

He’s so caught up in maybe hearing that laugh again, that he doesn’t even notice the rocks finally floating down to rest behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Everything from here on out is wild speculation and wish fulfillment~


	3. Fall to Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren Pain Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: frequent discussion/portrayal of self-hatred/verbal abuse. 
> 
> Timeline:  
> *Chapter starts in the past, about 18 years before the events of TFA, (~16 ABY)  
> *Then skips forward ten years (~26 ABY, eight years before the events of TFA/TLJ)  
> *and finally skips forward through time to the end of TLJ/chapter 1 (34 ABY)
> 
> **=POV switch  
> ***=time jump

_Hello, young one._

There's the voice again. Whispering at the edges of his mind, curling long, dark fingers around every horrible thing he's ever thought and pulling it forward, blocking out any other possible feeling, swallowing them whole.

Ben will turn 11 next week, and then the voice will have been with him for two years. It's getting louder. Harder to ignore. To deny. 

The more pressing the voice becomes, the harder it is for Ben to focus on what he's supposed to. Currently, he's supposed to be helping his mother greet Luke Skywalker, war hero and legendary Jedi. 

_Legendary, indeed. He'll reveal his true self to you, in time. They all will._

Ben hisses quietly in the back of his throat.  _Shut up,_ he thinks, loudly, at the voice.  _Leave me alone._

"Hey, kid." Luke is more gray than Ben remembers. Brown eyes tired, somber, but still undeniably kind. Wrinkles form at the corner of them, and at the edges of his mouth. Laugh lines, not unlike the ones his mother sports, but hers are so much more defined. Leia chose a life away from the Jedi, a life of mother, wife, Senator.  Laughter was a little freer, here. 

"I've been speaking to Luke, my love," his mother says, as they sit at a table in the meeting room. Ben gazes out the window behind her, counting the sunbeams caught on the glistening lake. Willing himself to ignore the voice as it whispers  _Here's where they leave you._

"Ben?" His mother must have said something important, as she looks to him to respond. 

When he doesn't, Luke plows forward. "I can see that your mother said is true; you have an undeniable gift for the Force. You grow in its power daily, and it's more than past the time where you should begin your training on Devaron. Which we will do as quickly as possible. As soon as you've said your goodbyes." 

"But, we'll go together," Ben says, to clarify. "Poe and I will leave together." 

"Just you, darling." His mother looks unhappy, at least, as she cuts down any hope he may have had.

"Can't Poe come?" He whispers. 

Uncle Luke ( _Master Luke_ a quiet part of him corrects) smiles, his face barely moving under the weight of the expression. "I'm afraid not, Ben. While I can't deny that Poe has shown a certain...affinity for the Force, especially where the people he loves are involved, his midichlorion count doesn't really qualify him for the life of a Jedi." 

"So, he'll visit?" He asks, naively. 

"Ben..." his mother begins. 

"The Jedi don't necessarily allow for such deep attachments," Luke finishes. "You can see him maybe a few times a year, but it would be untenable to support anything further."

Ben blinks back tears. Poe has been the star of Ben's universe for almost three years. He swallows, hard, and tries to imagine life on Devaron without his best friend. Poe is the  _only_ person who has never forgotten him. His mother leaves, his father's gone, he has no sisters, no family, no friends, just  _Poe._

 _Poe only loves you because you're all he has. He's got a dead mother, absent father, and  a strange, needy lost boy, misunderstood by his family._ That awful, creeping voice says.  _You're nothing, You're nothing without him. And he'll realize that._ _If you leave, he'll forget you. Like everyone else._

Something nasty twists inside of him and he snarls, suddenly feral, at Luke, at Leia, the whole stupid lot of them. 

"I WON'T GO. I  **won't!"** The reinforced glass of the meeting room's windows crack ominously, and every item in the room begins to vibrate.

"Ben!" his mother is crying, one hand covering her mouth as she sobs, the other reaching out to her son. Luke stands quickly, throwing his arm back towards his twin. 

 

_Your own mother seeks protection from you. Darling boy, don't you see? This is your destiny. The people you love, cowering in fear._

_"_ No," Ben chokes, "Mother, please." 

_They'll be dead at your hands, no doubt. Just ask your grandmother._

"LIAR!" Ben screams, hands clasping over his ears ("You'll grow into 'em, kid," the voice of his father comes unbidden to his mind) as his knees give out and he collapses to the floor. Ben screams over the cacophony in his head, the sheer wall of noise rising around him at the room shakes, threatening to fall apart. 

If he had looked up, he would have seen the startled looks on Leia and Luke's faces. He would have seen the fear shuttering something down, deep in Luke's eyes. The screaming boy on the ground doesn't know that this outburst confirms what his mother's urgent message to his uncle said. There's something larger than all of them at work, wreaking havoc in her sweet, pleasant boy.   Ben is unaware of everything around him, the voice in his head slowly becoming the only reality. Ben Solo is being demolished into pieces of stardust, unraveling with an audience. 

The room is so focused on Ben that no one sees the door fly open. No one sees the curly-haired boy cast his frenzied gaze around the room before it lands on the tortured young man. But they do hear him as he sprints towards his best friend. 

"Ben!" Poe screams, running forward, reaching out, trying to help. "Buddy!" 

 _Enemy,_ whispers the voice. 

"Get  **away** from me!" screams Ben. The Force spirals out, uncontrolled, as he looks up and locks eyes with Poe Dameron. His best friend in the galaxy, who even now doesn't look afraid, only heartbroken, as an unseen wind picks him up off the ground and slams him into the opposite wall. Ben screams in agony as Poe's eyes slide shut, feeling but not seeing the trickle of blood forming on the back of his head. 

 _You did this_ , the voice tells him gleefully.  _These are your first steps._

Luke Skywalker stands in front of Ben.

When had he crossed the room?

"Sleep," he commands, waving a firm hand over Ben's eyes.

Everything goes dark. 

___

When he wakes, he's thrown off, not knowing why, until he realizes that it's the light. The cool, aqua-tinged light of Naboo has been traded for the green overcast sky of Devaron. He's kept in bed for three days.

When he's released from Medical, he's surrounded by fellow Force-Sensitives, Padawans he's never met. 

_People you've been hidden from. For their own safety. Most of them have been here since they were children. Younglings. And here you are, almost a man, with no real training besides the tricks your mommy taught you._

Ben stumbles around the temple at Devaron, begging for news from off-planet. 

No one will tell him a thing about Poe Dameron.

 

***

Ten Years Later

Ben is on a mission off-world, one of the last in a line of assignments before Luke grants him the title of Knight. He's on Yavin 4, avoiding eye contact with any and all he passes. He's already delivered the ambassador to the provided location. He just needs to get into his X-Wing and get off the planet. 

"Ben!" He hears the shout, feels the warmth flood through him, the warmth he hasn't felt for over a decade. 

 _"_ There is no emotion, there is peace," he whispers to himself before turning around. 

Poe Dameron is jogging towards him. The second their eyes lock, he breaks into a sprint. Ben's running too, ignoring the gasps of the citizens around him as his brown robe flaps around his ungainly, long legs, showing flashes of the lightsaber bouncing on his hip. 

 As they near each other, the years apart collapse in on him, and Ben is ashamed to realize he's crying. He hasn't done that since he was a child. They stumble to a halt and stand, face to face, Poe panting with the exertion from sprinting after him down the street, and Ben from the ferocity of his emotion. There's a pause, and--

Poe's arms go around his torso (when did he get so short?) his head bumping up on his collarbone. Ben's not so embarrassed to be crying now as he feels the sob shuddering through his childhood friend. They stand like that for several moments, gripping each other in both joy and fear, before stepping back to look at each other once more. 

"Ben, buddy," Poe says, emotion still thick in his voice. He makes no move to dash the tears from his eyes, hands still tight on Ben's shoulders. "Where have you been?"

"Devaron," Ben says, confused. "I've been training. Where have  _you_ been." And maybe the Voice has been too long in his head, because he can't keep that snap out of his tone, he can't take the accusation out of the question.  Poe doesn't respond in anger, but in even deeper confusion. 

"I was told you couldn't receive visitors," he explains, haltingly. "But, I sent you messages. Surely Devaron isn't such a backwater that you can't get basic comms up?" 

"I never got any communication," Ben says, feeling anger sparking up his spine. A familiar emotion, at least. 

"Huh," Poe says, brow working quickly even as his eyes maintain their steady, kind contact with Ben's. "Well, it's amazing to see you! You gotta be a Jedi Knight by now, right? The last hope for the Jedi, just like we always talked about!" He looks so excited, Ben hesitates to tell him the truth for fear of his most assured disappointment. 

"Not a Knight yet. By month's end, if the Maker is kind enough." 

"That's great! Really, that's great," Poe beams at him. Ben's heart sags at the relief. He'd forgotten how warm, how perfectly accepting Poe is. He'd forgotten how much he'd relied on it.

The insignia on Poe's jacket catches his attention. "Flight Academy?" He asks, surprised at how interested he actually is in Poe's answer. 

"Yeah, buddy! Top of my class! Your mother says I'm going to be the best pilot in the Navy." Ben snorts gently at the moniker for his mother's troops. "And, the rumors are true--she'll make General before you know it." 

"The Jedi don't really deal in rumors," Ben says, half-amused, and half-exhausted. As he says this, his comm beeps impatiently. Sighing, he hits accept on the incoming message. 

"Young Master Benjamin. Please return to Devaron before sundown. Urgent news from Master Skywalker."  Ben stiffens at the abruptness of the message.

_Master Luke is calling. Be a good dog and run along._

"I guess this is goodbye," Poe says. Ben looks at him, and sees no trace of bitterness, just a deep, old sadness. Poe is 22 now, has been for two months, but his eyes look much, much older. He idly wonders what's happened in his life to make Poe look that old. He worries that it was Ben Solo. 

"At least we get to say it this time," Ben huffs, remembering the last time they parted. What he'd done. 

"It's not goodbye forever," Poe says firmly. "Here, actually, take this." He digs around in his cargo pants, and pulls out a small holopad. "Look through the ones marked "BS" when you get a chance."

They hug again, all too brief, but it'll be what sustains Ben through the next stage of his training. This memory, this knowledge that there's some good in the galaxy, something worth fighting for. Someone who's specifically Ben's, not to be shared with the Senate, a Wookie, fifteen other Padawans. 

Poe clears his throat, eyes misty, and nods at Ben. "Young Master Solo."

"Private Dameron." The amusement slightly masks the sadness. 

__

When he gets back on his ship, he plugs in the coordinates to return to the Temple, and then initiates takeoff. Once he's cleared atmo and pushed the bird into hyperdrive, he decides to look at what Poe's gifted him. It couldn't possibly help the "no attachments" directive mandated by Luke, but these are his. There's no reason for his uncle to ever know they existed. 

 _He probably already knows. He just didn't want you to know that there was someone out there who still cared about you. Someone other than me, that is._  

 

"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge," he mutters to himself, in attempt to validate his curiosity and deafen the voice. He presses tightened fists into his gritty eyes as he clutches the holopad. He flicks through the files marked BS, dating back ten years, and his throat closes with a great, unnamed emotion as he sees the sheer volume of messages. All this time, and Poe hadn't forgotten him. He hadn't.  

 _Who knew the heir of Darth Vader would be so...sentimental._ Ben shrugs him off, again, too set in his current mission to give any credence to his longest-standing acquaintance (and because that so happens to be the voice in his head, hey, that's fine. Master Luke's best friend was a Force Ghost). 

He gets to the bottom of the files that had been intended for him, and hits play. 

A hologram of a tiny, prepubescent Poe Dameron smiles up at him, an endearing gap in his front teeth. 

"Happy Life Day, Ben!" he shouts. "You'll never guess what I did today! I ate twelve Muja fruits, one for each year you've been alive. Are you still scrawny? Leia says you're not up for visitors yet, but hopefully this counts for somethin'. Good luck Jedi-ing, ya Nerf Herder!" The transmission cuts out and Ben stares blankly out over his console as hyperspace flashes by. 

Ben goes through each transmission methodically. He swallows his grief less frequently as the years tick by, Poe growing from child to young man. The last transmission was from not even three months ago, for his 21st birthday. It's longer than the others, Poe's voice slightly slurred by the alcohol he'd been consuming, and by a grief that Ben knows all too well ("What, you think I'd stick to Muja fruit? I'm getting old, Solo. Time for you to say something back").

By the end, he doesn't feel sad at all; instead something beyond anger rages in his stomach, steeling his spine. The Force snarls around him as he comes out of hyperspace, slowing for his ascent into Devaron's atmo, landing gear extending. 

His hand twitches briefly to his lightsaber. He needs to talk to his Uncle. Now. 

_Through passion, I gain strength._

It's not part of any code Ben knows. But right now, it's the only thing that makes sense. 

***

 _34 ABY,_ four  hours after the Battle of Crait

The scavenger had closed the door on him. Him, the  _Supreme Leader._ He'd given everything up for her, and he wasn't enough. 

She thought _she_ wasn't enough, he corrected himself. He knew the feeling all too well, and when it resonated across the Bond, underscored by her crippling self-doubt, he'd been reminded forcibly of his life time of regret and fear. Kylo Ren had so much to teach her, the beautiful young Jedi from Jakku. She'd see the truth.

 _Rey_. He calls through the Bond, through time and space. He cuts through the fog that separates them, the self-imposed darkness thrown over their connection. He needs to see her. 

Finally, the fog clears, and he sees her, dimly. From his perspective, she's sitting near the long table in his new chambers. Wherever she actually is, she sits in silence, hands perched oddly in mid-air as they fidget with something unseen. He can only guess that she's in the cockpit of Han Solo's ship, the Millennium Falcon. Even in his blind rage towards his former master, he'd been doubly infuriated to see it soar overhead, mocking his soldiers back on Crait. But some lingering fragment of Ben Solo is thrilled that it survived another day, and that it's being flown by someone so  _worthy_ and  _perfect._

"Can't sleep?" Rey asks, tilting her head slightly in his direction and offering a slow smile. Gods, of all the weapons in the galaxy, he hadn't counted on her smile. Soft and unassuming, reaching every inch of her face and bathing it in a sacred, holy light. He's rendered breathless, momentarily, ready to surrender, ready to fall at his knees and  _yield._ To tell his Empress that yes, he can't sleep, he hasn't slept in years, hasn't slept since Naboo, since all the blood and fighting and  _loss._

The yearning to submit bleeds away as he realizes she wasn't talking to him, but addressing someone in her surroundings, who's surely come to help fly that hunk of junk. 

"I'll let you in on a secret, Sunshine. I never sleep."

Here's the thing about their Force Bond. Kylo can't truly see her surroundings, she can't see his. He can't see the people Rey surrounds herself with--Luke Skywalker being the only exception--and for all he knows, she's even more limited in her knowledge of his environment. 

This is the assumption he's been working under. So he can't blame himself for stumbling forward, gasping in something near pain, as her co-pilot fades into view as his golden voice hangs in the air between them all. 

Rey's smile is directed at Poe Dameron. He smiles back. 

And the Bond closes. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canonically, Poe is probably closer to 3 years older than Ben (Poe would have been born in 2 ABY, before the Battle of Endor, and Han was still frozen around then), but I aged him down slightly so they were both born around 4-5 ABY, making them closer in age. Poe is roughly a year older than Ben, but would still tease him about the age difference (they're the same age for five weeks/slightly less than a month (Star Wars time, that is) per year). Poe is about to turn 30 by the events of TLJ, and Ben is 28, almost 29. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Rey is around 20, but no one's really sure how old she is anyway, right?)
> 
> p.s. I just plunked Luke's temple on Devaron, unclear as to where it actually was. But, Devaron is appropriately green and important to the Jedi, so.


	4. The Light Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get some fluff going after that pain train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey likes to fly things, fix things, help friends, and curse (because of course she does, working as a junk scavenger for so long? yeah she curses like a sailor).
> 
> Also, somewhat implied/suggested/could be interpreted as mention of past sexual assault in this chapter. It's said in passing and it's Poe's interpretation. Tags will be updated in the future when more explicit mentions of things come up; let me know if you think I should up the rating!

Hours after they take off from Crait, Rey finds herself sitting at the dashboard of the Falcon while the rest of its passengers get some much-needed sleep. 

About an hour into the flight, she'd begged herself off from yet another conversation about the miraculous rescue she'd accomplished, leaving the center of the ship, packed with the surviving members of the Resistance, and fled towards the cockpit under the pretense of having to check the route.

(She hadn't seen or felt the eyes of a concerned Resistance pilot on her back as she'd run)

She fiddles with the controls in front of her, trying her hardest not to think about a tall man with beautiful eyes, pleading for her to stay. She tries her hardest not to think about how she'd left him, even though she knows better than anyone what it feels like to be left. 

 _Sold for drinking money._ She shakes her head as if she could clear the memory of Ben's voice murmuring that to her, and tries to focus on the way he'd refused to give up power. Remembers that he killed his father, and who knows how many Padawans, children who'd doubtlessly trusted him, back at Luke's temple. 

The Force requires peace, requires balance. But it didn't really provide easy answers on forgiveness.

She feels something creeping over the back of her neck, and she's afraid to turn around in case  _he's_ there. But instead, she hears a rustle behind the copilot's chair, and realizes she's got actual company. 

"Can't sleep?" she asks, smiling up at her visitor. Poe Dameron takes this as an invitation to sit, and collapses in the seat next to her. 

"I'll let you in on a secret, Sunshine. I never sleep." There's no actual cockiness in his voice, and the smile that he gives her is warm, genuine, even if its edges are frayed by the truth of the statement. 

"Sunshine?" she asks, teasingly, avoiding the harder question of why he can't sleep, for now. Her shoulders loosen considerably, as if a weight's been lifted off of them. She feels considerably more at ease suddenly; Poe seems to have that effect on people. 

"You know, because you come from the heavens." His wink is best described as sinful. 

Rey stares at him for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. "That's  _absurd!"_ She crows in delight. Poe has the audacity look semi-offended. 

"Alright, alright. So it's Rey," he gestures vaguely over at her, "So you go Rey, ray, ray of Sunshine. It's a pretty easy jump to make," he explains in earnest. "I gave most of my squadron weird names, it's what I do." At the mention of his former squadron, he sobers up completely. Rey has learned that other than a man named Snap, none of the pilots under Poe's command survived the events of the last week. Rey's only friends in the world are currently on this ship, and can be counted on a severely mutilated hand, so she can't even imagine the loss he feels. The depth of it is evident in his face, which is growing more gray, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more pronounced. There's a war in his eyes, a war that she's all too familiar with, and one that she knows he can't afford to lose. To distract him, she offers him something of her own. 

"I had to leave earlier," she says, awkwardly. But it's enough to distract him from his self-inflicted torture, and he turns to look at her, brown eyes still haunted, but interested.

"I had to leave. It's silly. I spent my life alone, wishing for a family, but now I'm surrounded by people and I can't stand it." Poe leans forward at that statement, brow furrowed in worry, and she continues in her explanation. "Don't get me wrong, I love that I know so many people now, and I'm so happy I could help you all. But I've never been around so many people. It's been me, by myself my whole life. I slept in an old AT-AT left over from the Battle of Jakku, I didn't know my parents, and I didn't have a friend until BB-8 found me." Poe smiles, clearly pleased that she'd found his droid. "And then there was Finn, and it feels like my galaxy's getting bigger and bigger each second. It's a little stressful, and overwhelming."

Poe nods as she speaks, letting her get it all out. It doesn't seem like a cocky flyboy (Leia's words, full of affection and irritation), let alone one as handsome as he is, would care about what she has to say. But she finishes her thought: "I just needed to get away. I can feel all of you in the Force. It surrounds each and every living thing, and I feel all of it. Distance seems to help, but when I'm in the midst of a crowd like that, it's almost like I forget who I am. Because Luke refused to really teach me, I never really learned how to drown it out, but Leia says she'll help me." Rey desperately hopes Leia can help her block parts of the Force out, so she can remember what silence feels like. 

"I think it's a gift," Poe says to her, staring out over the console. "A gift that can cause just as much good as it can damage someone. And I'm glad the Force chose you to help us. I think you understand that it's a gift. And I think you'll use it to help people. Even wanting to use it to help people, and not hurt them to get what you want, means that you're going to be just fine." He turns to look at her, and her chest hurts at how much he seems to see.

Rey wonders how he can speak so knowingly of the Force, but decides not to press him into telling her more than he wants to. She's tired of people pushing and pushing and pushing for more than they deserve, more than they've earned. She refuses to be a person who does that.

From the doorway, Chewie howls softly at Rey. Poe doesn't speak Wookie, because he looks equal parts startled and guilty. Rolling her eyes, Rey turns and beams at Chewbacca. "Coming!" she calls back. 

"Okay, Chewie says he's going to drag my "hairless-pup ass" to bed unless I go there myself." Rey bites her lip and looks over at Poe. "You're welcome to stay here. General Organa put the coordinates in for the new base, so this bird's going to fly herself. Feel free to rest, Commander." Rey says gently, standing and resting a hand on his shoulder, hoping that the touch won't bother him, as he seems more tactile than most people she's met. 

"Alright, can't see the harm in some shuteye. I feel a lot better, Sunshine. Thank you." He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. His warmth leaks through his shirt and it burns Rey in a way she's entirely unfamiliar with, completely alien from the desert sun and lightsabers.

 _I feel it too._ She wants to tell him, but she's afraid she doesn't have the right words.

**

***

Six weeks later, Poe's sitting in mess at their new (actually old, re-used from the early days of the Rebellion) base, across from Rey. Next to him on the bench is another member of the Resistance, a new Recruit, stretched out and napping with their head on their jacket. 

Poe's reading a holonovel--well, pretending to read a holonovel. He's really peeking over the edge of the book, in order to watch Rey eat. And eat. And eat. She's fascinating during meals, making short work of the rations. The limited food they've been able to provide over the last weeks has been slightly distasteful, in Poe's opinion (and sure, that has something to do with growing up on Yavin where fruit was plenty and cuisine varied, and then on Naboo as the surrogate son of one of the most important women in the galaxy). But watching Rey eat, he has a new appreciation for their meals. Every new flavor is a revelation, every new texture an exciting opportunity. Her eyes light up, and her focus narrows down in a way that, otherwise, he really only ever sees from her during what he calls "Jedi Moments." 

Her so-called Jedi Moments are broad in range: some are spectacular, like her shining moment saving the survivors on Crait. Others are slightly smaller in scale, but still impressive, like the time she managed to convince Finn to give Poe the last roll at dinner (with everyone's consent of course. She'd been very particular about that, after the table had asked for a demonstration of mind tricks. Poe hates how well he understands the reason _why_ she'd demanded permission multiple times before complying). 

Some of her Jedi Moments are much, much smaller. And Poe has a feeling those feats have less to do with what the Jedi are, and more to do with who Rey is.

~

She's been coming to him at night, when the pressure of the nightmares becomes too strong. He didn't even come to get her the first time; she had shown up at his door, knocking softly a few minutes after he'd woken up from a particularly terrifying dream. He'd gotten down from the bunk, and followed her to a quiet, dark corner of base. They haven't talked about it, but after he'd collapsed, shaking, nonverbal with his back to her and his heart full of slimy self-hatred, she decided to help him meditate.

During the day, they chat with each other in passing, or in training, or over repairs. They act like they're supposed to, with Poe training her in the smaller details of the Resistance, and Rey asking a million and one questions. At night, by themselves, the roles are reversed and she'll sit with him for hours on the floor of his room, sometimes humming softly to herself, other times not saying a word or making a noise for the entire time they're together. She'll stay with him for as long as she needs to, dismissing any attempts on Poe's part for her to ignore him and his weakness. She'll stay with him for as long as she needs to, until Poe's ready to sleep. 

One time, when even meditation and the gentle sound of Rey's breathing hadn't calmed him down and the pitchblack sense of violation and despair and guilt still beat him hard, raging against the back of his eyes, he'd been startled by the feeling of small, calloused hands sliding over his wrists. His eyes had flown open to find her, still in peaceful meditation, eyes closed, with a faint smile on her face as she held his wrists.

"Relax, Dameron." She'd said. "Just, feel the Force. Feel all of it around you. Find the things you fear. Look at them. They're no bigger than you are. Find the things you love. Listen to them. They'll help you find a way back to the Light." Her fingers stroked an aimless rhythm on the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, no doubt chasing his pulse. If she'd wanted his heart to calm, she should have probably stopped making direct contact with his skin. Not that Poe would have told her. He would have cut his hands off before he'd ask her to stop touching him. He felt endlessly dirty for thinking about her in any way other than spiritual guide in these moments. He steeled himself, and focused on what she'd asked of him.

He'd finally gotten to sleep an hour later.

~

Back in the present, Poe tries to focus his attention on his holonovel. Rey burps, quietly, an endearing noise. 

He looks up to see her smiling at him, and he's caught off-guard by a crumb of sweetbread gathered in the corner of her mouth. 

"Sweetbread," he says, pointing awkwardly. She looks at him, obviously confused.  _Of course she's confused, you idiot. You just pointed at her and said a word. That's not what people do._

Poe tries again. "You've got a little bit of sweetbread, right there." He leans forward slowly to give her time to react, his hand outstretched. His heart is pounding as he wipes the crumb away himself using his thumb, his other fingers cupping her sharp jaw. "Perfect," he says softly. Like the unbelievable idiot he is, he leaves his hand there for a few more seconds. Rey's face is growing steadily pinker, and judging by the heat, his is doing the same. His heart threatens to stop altogether because he thinks, he  _thinks,_ she begins to lean into his hand, eyes darkening, and he's about to do something really kriffin' stupid--

"Hey guys!" Finn shouts, clutching two trays in his hand. "What's--uh, what's up?" Poe and Rey both startle and stare at him. Rose Tico is standing behind him, fresh from the Med-Bay having completed full recovery; she's looking curiously at the seated pair. 

"Eating!" chirps Rey. 

"Helping her with her face," Poe blurts out at the same time.

"Rey doesn't need any help with her face..." Rose says, a question clear in her voice. The Jedi in question smiles back at her, and pats the bench in a clear request to sit with her. Rose complies, and Finn clambers next to her, setting their trays on the table. All three face Poe, who feels the need to respond. Because of course he does.

"There's nothing wrong with her face, she just had some food on it," He defends. Gods, he couldn't sound stupider if he tried. Something about Rey makes every single part of his brain short circuit. 

"My kriffing Hero," says Rey in a sing-song voice. "Fuck! I meant to save some for later." She pokes despairingly at her empty tray. 

"Maybe you should have saved some of whatever Poe wiped off your face," Finn suggests in a mock-serious voice. "But then again, that would mean stopping to breathe and/or think while inhaling your food."

"Oh, switch-off, bantha brains," retorts Rey. "If you gotta fucking problem with how I eat, say it to my face, and not with your girlfriend sitting between us." Rose throws her hands in the air between them in an attempt to calm the fake-argument.

"Watch your language, Rey," Poe says, hoping the sternness in his voice will be interpreted as the joke it is. "Or I'll have to write you up for cursing on base."

Across the table, Rey flips him a hand gesture that most certainly qualifies as insubordination, but the message of which is undercut by the goofy grin on her face. 

"Yeah, don't curse in front of the old man, Rey," Finn teases. Poe tenses; it's not like he wants to hide how old he is from Rey, exactly. It's just that she's so young, and he's so...older. He's older than her, in a noticeable way that he's afraid could make his all too keen interest in the young Jedi seem...pervy. That's a word for it. Yeah.

"He's not that old," soothes Rose, reaching over to pat her hand on Poe's shoulder. He smiles at her, taking a sip of water as she continues, "The way you go on about it Finn, you'd think he'd been born before the Battle of Endor!" The water in Poe's mouth threatens to make a violent exodus from his mouth--he opts to choke on it instead, sputtering gracelessly. Finn thumps him on the back a few times until Poe waves him off, coughing lightly. 

"The Battle of Endor?" Across the table, Rey's nose scrunches ( _adorably,_ Poe's brain adds) at Rose. "That was a little before my time. Like twenty years ago, right?" 

All three friends look at Rey in a mixture of surprise and concern. "What?" she snaps defensively, "It's not like I had time for school when I was digging for scrap in the desert on Jakku _._ " 

Rose looks deeply ashamed, cheeks flaming a dark, embarrassed red, and Poe, not liking the discomfort that's descending around the table, answers Rey's question. "Sorry, Sunshine. Battle of Endor took place around 4 ABY. About a month...after I was born." 

"Oh!" Rey said, "So you're 30 now?" Poe winces, which Rey takes the wrong way. "Come on, I'm not that bad at math--you do need to know how to calculate basic shit to make certain repairs, not to mention fly a ship." He's horrified now; he thinks he's offended her twice in one sitting. He's usually not this bad at talking to girls. Women. Jedi. Any of it.

"29," Finn corrects. "Our boy's still in his twenties!" Poe smiles faintly at Finn's correction. While he's slightly irritated that they're even discussing his age thanks to Finn's comment, the ex-Stormtrooper's winning some points back after saving Poe from making a further fool of himself. The part of Poe that feels like it's always watching Rey doesn't register any negative or positive reaction on her part to that latest revelation. 

"And how old are the rest of you?" Rey asks curiously. 

"I'm 23!" chirps Rose. "I was born in 11 ABY; my mother and I share a birthday. Depending on the day, she said I was either the worst or the best present she ever received!" Rey laughs and so does Rose. The mechanic quiets down after a second, holding on to a fragile, sweet smile. Poe's heart twinges at the rapid change in her expression; the Tico girls had been orphaned five years prior in a First Order attack on their homeworld. As she's been recovering for the better part of a month, he never did get to talk to her about Paige's sacrifice. The sacrifice required due to his ridiculous, absurd desire to _blow things up._

Catching on to her mood, Finn leans to grab her hand, kissing the knuckles. Rose smiles, her attention diverted momentarily. Finn beams down at his girlfriend and says "Definitely the best present I ever got." Rey and Rose's eyebrows raise simultaneously. "We!" He corrects rapidly, a blush rising on his face now, "Best present  _we_ ever got. The Resistance. Us. Yeah. Us." 

Rey's laughing hard, now. "Okay,  _big deal._ " she says, waggling her fingers at him. Finn waves his hands at her like she's a pesky skitterbug. Poe doesn't get the inside joke, but he's also pleased that she has inside jokes with people. Rey's life before sounded terribly lonely. He feels unbearably grateful that the galaxy allowed Finn to find her. "How old are you?"

Finn's typically jovial face shadows for a second. "Well, I've never actually had a birthday. But according to my paperwork from my last physical examination, I was born in the seventh month of 10 ABY." He perks back up, "So I'm only a year older than Rose!" He dips to kiss her on the nose, and she squeaks adorably. 

"Why would Rose's age matter?" Rey asks, curious once more. Poe's heart bangs unbearably at his rib cage. 

"Because..." Rose trails off, shooting a furtive glance at Poe (he schools his features into something he hopes is nonchalant. He can tell it's not working). "Well, I guess it doesn't actually matter. As long as you're not too young to be in a relationship to begin with, and the person you're with isn't eons older than you."

"I think it matters because it's nice to have the same life experience as the person you're with," Finn tries diplomatically, "You don't want to be with someone who has a different goal than you. Age helps with that. You wanna make sure they're the person you grow old with. Someone who understands where you've come from, but also how far you have to go." He blushes deeper as the two girls make cooing noises at him. 

Poe remains uncharacteristically silent throughout this exchange. He wants to ask Rey how old she is. He doesn't want to know how old Rey is. He wants to know. He doesn't. He _does_ want to know, but he doesn't want anyone to know that he wants to know.  _Who talks first?_ echoes across the back of his mind. 

"Well, I might as well tell you, when you've been so kind to share with me," Rey says. "To be honest, I can't be sure how old I am. I know I'm at least twenty, because Unkar mentioned to me that I "wasn't a child anymore," and legally on Jakuu you're an adult at 16. I've tried to track time since then, and it's been about four years."

"Why would Unkar keep track of when you turned 16?" Rose inquires. 

Rey stiffens, fractionally, her face freezing. Something deep, snarling, and protective comes roaring to life in Poe. He doesn't know who or what this  _Unkar_ was to Rey to make her look like a cornered animal. He knows that the terrible, dark thing inside him wouldn't hesitate to rip this Unkar limb from limb for even a hundredth of the horrible possibilities flickering through his head.

"Well, thanks to the fact that I have no idea how old I am, I think I'm out of luck," Rey dodges the question with slightly less skill than she would dodge space debris while flying. "I don't think I'm exactly what someone's looking for in a romantic partner. I curse, I don't have a family, I'm a member of an order whose members have consistently committed varying levels of homicide and genocide in the last 50 years, and I eat like a--what was the word Snap used?--a dying Sarlaac." Poe personally loves the way Rey eats, and is entirely unsure of what Snap thinks is the correct way to eat after starving your whole life. "Like I said, I'm out of luck. I'll just have to live vicariously through you two, and die alone!"

Poe feels like he's choking under the weight of all the horrible things Rey's saying about herself. She's passing them off as jokes, but the flint in her eyes suggests that she may believe them more than she laughs about them. She stands up before he can pull her back and convince her  _no, no one thinks that about her. Don't you understand you're the brightest thing in the whole galaxy? Can't you feel how better my life is, now that I know you, even after a few short weeks?_ He wants to whisper those words and a thousand more in her ear with her small, thin body cocooned in his arms and shielded from the things that have led her to think this way. He hates that a joke about how old he is has led them here, led Rey to this self-doubt. His concern for her, mingled as it is with his desire for _mo_ _re_ stops him from formulating an appropriate approach to the situation, and all he can do is join Finn and Rose as they shout their protestations for her to sit, stay a while, she's wonderful, everyone loves her. 

She giggles, waving them off. "It's fine, I'm fine being an old Wookie-lady. Besides, I don't think Chewie would take kindly on any distractions from flying." 

"Anyway, I gotta go check the specs on some ships being brought in by a smuggler." She must see the doubt on her friends' faces, and she rushes the last part of her reassurance: "Really! Two months ago if I had said that sentence, to  _three friends_ no less, I would have forced myself to seek medical care for insanity. I'm going to go  _talk to a smuggler_ about ships that were stolen and are being sold  _to Leia Organa's Resistance._ Life couldn't be better!" She smiles at Finn and Rose, and shoots Poe an unreadable look, something closing off in her eyes even as she attempts to smile at him, too.

"Have a wonderful day, and don't worry about me. I'll see you later!" She skips off and Poe tries his hardest to ignore how the last two sentences were directed entirely at him. 

She'll see him later. But he'll definitely worry about her until then.

And if he makes Snap run an extra ten laps at training, hey, that's his prerogative.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're all blushers, convince me otherwise. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hopefully this was fluffy enough?
> 
> p.s. for reference here's how time works (all standard across planets) in SW:
> 
> 60 seconds = 1 minute[5]  
> 60 minutes = 1 hour[5]  
> 24 hours = 1 day[5]  
> 5 days = 1 week[5]  
> 7 weeks = 35 days = 1 month[5]  
> 10 months + 3 festival weeks + 3 holidays = 368 days = 1 yea


	5. A Brief Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Poe POV~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ Short but hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently in this coming week~  
> (End of the semester is crazy town)

The galaxy is not aligning in Poe's favor, as he doesn't actually end up seeing Rey after lunch. That evening, she's conspicuously absent from dinner. He's told by Rose over their meal that Rey was called away from the mechanic bay by General Organa, four hours prior. 

Poe spots the General ahead of him in a hallway about an hour before lights out, and jogs to catch up with her. It's just the two of them, but he still addresses her formally. 

"Good evening, General."

"Dameron," her voice is stern as she flicks her gaze over at him. He walks next to her awkwardly for a few minutes. He's known her for almost three decades, and he hasn't figured out how someone with such short legs can walk so quickly. They're nearing the officer quarters, where their respective rooms are, when she stops in the hallway, grabs his arm and turns him to face her.

Looking down at her, Poe remembers how much Leia's aged. She looks tired, but her brown eyes are very much alive and bright, lit by amusement but hardened by some tough cousin of resolve. 

"Spit it out, Poe." It's not phrased like an official order, but it may as well be. Poe feels fifteen years old again, shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

"Uh, I was wondering...ifyouknewwhereReywas."

"Pardon?" Her brow arches as if to punctuate her question. 

He clears his throat, tries again: "Rose mentioned that you'd called Rey away from work this afternoon. I haven't seen her since, and I wondered if you knew where she was."

"I do," she answers. When she doesn't elaborate, Poe feels himself vibrating out of his skin. She groans in irritation, throwing her hands in the air. "My whole life, I've been cursed by dramatic fools for men in my life. She and I had a discussion about one of her...abilities. It tired her out, so she asked to be left alone for a while." Poe nods, knowing that he'll have to accept that amount of information. He must still look unhappy, because she grabs his arms again and squeezes, smiling in a way that reminds him of his childhood and the feeling of safety. "She'll be okay, Poe. She might not visit your quarters this evening, but she'll be alright."

Poe worries for a moment that the base is under attack because his face is on literal fire. "It's not...we don't...Rey is. She's a...she's a good friend." He offers. Leia rolls her eyes and releases his arms.

"Get some rest, Dameron. We need to start your training for more advanced command tomorrow. Let's see if we can teach you how to avoid mutiny." Poe winces at the low blow, but she's stalking towards her door before he can apologize. 

"Goodnight, Poe," she tosses over a shoulder. 

"Goodnight, m-Leia." He ignores how close he came to calling her "mom." He's embarrassed himself enough for today.

 

Later, he sits wide awake in his bunk, rhythmically pounding his head against the durasteel wall. "You can do this," he grits out. "Just. Sleep. Just close your eyes and go to sleep." Kriff, he hates feeling like this. He isn't sure when it happened that he couldn't sleep without Rey, but here he is, one night without her and he's falling apart. 

The hours bleed away and he still can't sleep, and Rey hasn't shown up with her uncanny timing. 

Steeling his resolve, he shuts his eyes, and breathes carefully the way she'd shown him. Poe pulls on a thread of memory, thinks about her eyes closed in meditation, her breathing even, and he tries to match her breath. He relaxes slightly, and feels a part of him reach out to the memory of her, seeking the warmth and peace she exudes in their quiet moments together. 

Poe's so deep in the vision that he can't pull away when he feels it shift. Her eyes clench shut and her breath quickens. She makes a soft noise of distress, a whimper that he never thought the fierce young woman was capable of making. 

"Rey?" He thinks, afraid to speak aloud even in this strange space between waking and sleeping. 

"Poe," she says. Her eyes remain closed. "Find me." 

He startles fully awake. He doesn't think before obeying. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! Next chapter is mostly Rey POV, cuddles will be involved, and Kylo will make an appearance (and terrifically wrong assumptions). 
> 
> I have a lot of the arc written already; the slow burn will continue only for a short while longer ; )


	6. The Weakness in Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's dreams are getting worse, and she realizes she can't hide the truth from her friends anymore (Well, a certain friend).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves a frank (but not explicit) discussion of torture/assault. And, Poe asks Rey if she's been sexually assaulted. 
> 
> Also Rey has a really vivid dream that details those things. I went ahead and marked it off by ~ ~ at the beginning and the end, if you want to skip it. 
> 
> There are some cuddles at the end.
> 
> Rating has officially been upped (and don't worry, that M will also be earned in later chapters for happier reasons ~which have already been written~).

Earlier that day

"A word, Rey?" Leia Organa has appeared at the mechanic bay, a fact rare and distracting enough that all the workers pause for a moment to stare at the two women. Rey shifts uncomfortably for a moment, sitting under her project, a modified X-Wing, tools in hand, and then nods. 

"Of course, General." She sets aside the equipment and stands up quickly, following the older woman from the dock and away from prying eyes.

To be honest, Rey was mostly staring into space for the last hour, listless for an unknown reason. Okay, so maybe she knows the reason. Maybe it's lingering embarrassment from her behavior at lunch. Maybe it's the fact that while Poe had been trying to be a good friend, she misread the situation and thought he was going to kiss her. And not kiss her like he kisses Beebee on its dome after a clever assist; not kiss her like he kissed Rose on the forehead and cheek when she lay in recovery. But kiss her like Finn kisses Rose, kiss her like she's seen some of the pilots kiss each other in the shadows of the base (and the bolder ones out in the open). Kiss her like she was the only woman in the galaxy and he was the only man. 

Rey's mortified because she wanted him to kiss her, and he probably thinks of her as what she is--a naive young Scavenger with no real concept of affection or social graces. As if a handsome war hero with incredible hair, a smile that could reverse a black hole, and an affiliation with literal royalty would want anything romantic with her. Rey is a little girl who's running from a demon, from a monster in a mask.

Which, unfortunately, is what Leia wants to talk to her about.

They sit in an empty conference room and Leia clears her throat. "Have you seen my son recently?" is her blunt question. 

"Not while I'm awake," Rey says, wincing. Judging by Leia's face she needs to explain herself further. "I haven't seen him around the base or while I'm training physically. He hasn't shown himself to me since Crait. I get feelings of him here and there, like a shadow in the back of my mind. I can pick up on what he's feeling, but not distinct thoughts. I think he's trying to block me, and honestly I don't mind." She shrugs, helplessly.

Leia reaches out to hold her hands. Other than Finn, Leia's the only person who's ever done that. And while Finn had held them for survival and to hold on to her in the confusion on Jakku, Leia's hands cup hers tenderly, stroking the palms with her thumbs. Rey's lost for a moment, distracted by the wrinkled, soft skin of the General, distracted by how it makes her feel safe, and loved. It's not a feeling she's familiar with. 

"But, you do see him when you sleep?" Leia asks. 

Rey bites her lip and looks away, nodding. "Yeah. Sometimes it's dreams, or memories of him. Sometimes he's Ben Solo, and it's almost nice. Other times, he's Kylo Ren, and I don't. I don't really like those." She cannot tell Ben's mother about _those_ dreams, even if she is military officer seeking intel. She can't tell her of the paralyzing fear that creeps over her in those dreams, begging her to use the Dark side of the Force to push this monster away from her, to get away from him and to make sure that she never feels so trapped ever again. 

Leia's hands continue holding hers, tightening briefly before she says, distantly, as if from miles away, "My father tortured me." Rey looks back at her at the confession. 

"My father was Darth Vader." Leia's eyes look steadily into Rey's, who has to steel her resolve to look back as internally, shock reverberates throughout her system. "And I had something he wanted. He let his droids torture me for hours. I've never felt pain like that; like knives digging into every nerve on my body, twisting into spaces I didn't know existed. To this day I don't know if he was aware of who I was at that point or not. But I was 19 years old, and I was scared out of my mind, and he let that happen to me anyway. Not that I gave him anything. Little did he know, but I'd already ensured that the droid had gotten far away from his Darthness, and into the hands of the Rebellion." Rey smiles in spite of herself, surprised and pleased at the parallels between her and Leia. If she could grow into a woman a tenth as strong and impressive as the General, she'd be happy. 

"Thank you for telling me," Rey says, squeezing Leia's hands back. Both women smile in the comfortable silence before Leia lets go of her, sits up straighter and makes her request.

"Can you try? To reach him, that is."  

Rey closes her eyes, seeking out the balance within her, fighting down the cloying panic. She nods. "I can try."

"Thank you, Rey. If we can get eyes on him, or even ears, we might get some valuable information that even our spies can't. I figured this room was as good as any to try, because if he gets to look back, he'll only see us." Rey peeks an eye open at Leia, who suddenly looks very small in her chair. As if sensing Rey's doubt, Leia continues, "And, if he appears, it might be nice. To see him." Rey smiles weakly in response, and slides off the chair to sit on the ground in meditation pose. 

She takes several deep breaths before casting her mind out into the Force, seeking the signature that she's come to know so well. She realizes that she can feel Leia next to her in the Force. Her signature is remarkably strong; it feels like a deep, royal purple, slightly scarred by loss but vibrant and sure.

Time loses meaning as she searches for Ben, but he's nowhere to be found.

Wait. That's it: he's nowhere to be found. Instead of Ben, she looks for a Ben-shaped hole where he  _should_ be. The balance of the Force surges around her as she reaches out to what she realizes now is his cloaked signature. Her mind bumps up against the darkness, coaxing it into opening up. It pushes back violently, and Rey recognizes all too well the sickening feeling of fear as their signatures meld, reforging the Bond.

Images flash behind her eyes--things that he did to her, things that she's seen him do. And as always, the tormenting picture of them side-by-side, working together to bring balance to the galaxy, Ben Solo maskless and laughing, wearing the colors of the Jedi, Light leaking from his every molecule. 

In the vision, he turns to her, laughter still in his eyes, teeth showing in a full, gorgeous smile. Her vision darkens. She screams as a red blade appears through his chest. Ben chokes on his final laugh,  _he looks so much like his father_ , and the blade retracts viciously. Ben collapses, and behind him stands Kylo Ren, masked, hidden by robe and cowl. His hand raises and he begins to pull her using the Force, pull her into his outstretched hand. Her throat closes and she knows that he will stop at nothing until he has her in his grasp, forever. She tries to scream but nothing comes out and--

"Rey!" she snaps back to her physical self, Leia clutching her shoulders. Rey gasps, and lets out a shuddering sob. Leia's kneeling beside her, and the conference room is in disarray. She continues to cry, semi-hysterically, and Leia holds her in her arms, rubbing a hand on her back. "Rey, oh honey. You did so well." 

"Did you see him?" Rey asks in a strained voice. She can't see Leia's face as she cradles her, but she feels her nod. 

"I saw him. Oh, Rey." 

The women hold onto each other for an indeterminable time on the conference room floor. 

***

Rey sits in her bed that night, tucked away in a utility closet that no one seems to use, but that's large enough for her, her mattress, and some items she's collected from around base and the Falcon. She feels cold, colder than her usual cold, a desert rat who's been away from the sun for too long. Typically, she'd go to visit Poe at night when sleep does its best to elude both of them. Helping him has done wonders for her anxiety, and it's selfish of her, but she loves that he seems to need her too. She resolves that he cannot see her tonight, not after her performance at lunch, and certainly not while her eyes are still red and swollen from crying, her heart still broken from her constant failure. 

Rey curls in on herself and desperately chases sleep. When it finds her, she wishes she'd never tried. The dreams come quickly, and without mercy.

~~

 _I can take whatever I want,_ he whispers. She thrashes against the restraints as he strokes a hand down her face. His eyes are cruel and dark, and as he crouches over her, she thinks she can see him smile. She's never been this close to a man, to another person before. He stands up abruptly, and leaves his hand on her brow.  

Pain follows, as he rips into her mind. This time, she gives him exactly what he wants. She feels cut off from the Force, useless, weak, and she knows that he's found BB-8, and the Resistance is as good as dead.

Her muscles refuse to respond to her as he releases her from the table, and she crumbles to the floor. The Dark calls out to her, promising her love, power, strength, passion. Kylo crouches near her broken form, and offers a gloved hand. 

"Rise, apprentice." In the dream,  _is it a dream, young one?_ she vomits, and as it splatters across his polished, black boots, all he does is smile, happy in the knowledge that she's been so easy to break. 

 _You need a teacher_. The scene changes and she's in the forest at Starkiller. Anakin's lightsaber is in her hand, and her enemy is at her feet, figure almost cut in half by her sword. 

The man looks up, and Rey screams. 

It's not the broken face of Kylo Ren that stares up at her in horror. It's the broken face of Finn.

_You are mine._

The Dark swallows her whole, fear and anger sliding down her throat. Her screams turn to ash in her mouth. She sees a volcanic planet, a man torturing his daughter, Han Solo falling, Luke standing over his sleeping nephew clutching a lightsaber. She sees the transport ship carrying her parents away, Unkar raising a large, meaty fist. She sees Ben turning away from the light in a blood red throne room. 

In her blind terror, she almost misses the nudge at the corner of her mind. She pulls on it, recognizes it for the lifeline it is. Warm, golden light. Starshine and clean air and green things. Poe. 

"Find me," she begs him. "Find me." She feels him hum in acknowledgement and the dreams pull her back under. Kylo Ren waits for her with a green lightsaber in his hand. Their blades cross, and every time she lands a blow, she feels it carve into her own flesh.

~~

She gasps awake, and screams as she sees a figure in her doorway. Her eyes adjust, and she sees that it's Poe, frantic and wild-eyed, staring down at her. She remembers how he'd felt in her dream, and how his hand felt on her jaw at lunch.  _Play it cool,_ she thinks.

Rey bursts into tears.  _That went well._

In a second, Poe's beside her, reaching out hesitantly, a question in his eyes. She looks up at him through her tears. "Would touching you..." he begins uncertainly, "...is it okay to hold you right now? Or would that make it worse?" She tries to think about it, but her only reference point is Leia hugging her that afternoon. Which had honestly felt wonderful. She wipes her nose and eyes on her armband. Rey leans into his touch, and he takes that as his answer. 

He gently pushes her forward, and scoots behind her on the pallet. "My dad used to hold me like this," he explains, sitting behind her. "If it makes you uncomfortable for a second, just tell me." She doesn't say anything, and he laughs as he guides her into his arms. "Damerons are notoriously into cuddling." 

Rey isn't sure what "cuddling" is, but as he pulls her back to half-sit, half-lie in his arms, his legs on either side of her, she thinks she might like it. 

Her breath is still coming in sobs, and he wraps his arms around her as he sits back so his shoulders rest on the pillows leaning against the wall of her make-shift room. 

No one has ever held her like this. She wishes she could physically capture the feeling, wrap it up and never let it go, set it on her shelf with her other trophies and keepsakes. Rey can feel Poe's heartbeat against her back, and his calloused hands run up and down her arms as her breath calms. 

"There you go, Sunshine. Easy, easy," he speaks to her in a low voice, as if she were a wild animal that could spook at any given moment. Which she might actually be.

She snorts in derision. "Scared by a bad dream. Not so 'Sunshine' now, I guess."

His hands stop for a moment. "Don't think that," he says sternly. "Don't ever think that." She doesn't know what made his voice take on such a firm edge, but a moment later his arms have resumed their comforting strokes, so she figures she doesn't owe him an apology. He rests his face in her hair, and if she closes her eyes she can imagine his lips pressing into her hair. Or is it her imagination?

She shifts in his arms and he really freezes this time. Rey rolls her eyes, and turns to lie on her side. His legs, bracketing her body, widen slightly to give her room. She puts a hand on his chest, right over his heart, and takes the opportunity to press her nose into his collarbone. 

"Is this okay? For cuddling? Or should I stop?" she asks, hoping that she isn't pushing her luck. Poe is silent briefly as he shakes his head. He finds his voice and says, "No, of course not. Do whatever you need to, Sunshine." She smiles and rubs a thumb above his heart. She can feel some of the skin of his chest against her face, as his sleepshirt is partly unbuttoned. She's also facing the beautiful silver ring that she's noticed before during their meditation sessions, the ring that hangs on a chain around his neck. Poe's never mentioned having a wife, and Rey can assume that he wouldn't be holding her in her bed if he did have one, so she figures he'll tell her about it when he's ready.

Rey sighs, deeply pleased that he doesn't mind doing this. It's the most intimate thing she's ever done. Poe smells like space, like spice, and somehow, like a forest, even though nobody has been able to leave base in a month. 

"I've never done this before," she admits.

Poe rests his chin on her head, and she hears his voice and feels his rumble in his chest: "What, had someone hold you after a nightmare?"

"No," she says feeling hopelessly young and unsure of herself. "Had someone hold me like this at all."

She can feel the question hanging between them. "Finn was the first person I ever hugged, and that was only six weeks ago. Leia hugged me today, but it wasn't anything like this." She gestures between them. "This is different."

"Different bad?" It's a good thing she's pressed against him so closely, or she wouldn't have been able to hear the pained, quiet question. 

"Different good. Very good." His arms tighten around her, and Poe swallows. 

"I think so too, Sunshine." 

He just holds her for a few minutes, and begins to hum softly. When she asks him what it is, he tells her it's a lullaby his mother used to sing him. 

"Where is she now?" She asks, sleepily. 

"Gone," he replies. "She died when I was 8. My dad was working as a Pathfinder for the New Republic, and I stayed with the Organa-Solos for a while." 

Her breath catches in her throat, much more awake now. "That means that you...?"

He hums in affirmation. "Yeah, I know him. Knew him." 

"Oh." They're quiet again, and Rey goes to war with herself. She wonders if he can feel her thinking, as close as they are. She wants to give him something, this kind man with his soft touch and patience and goodness. She wants to give him an explanation for why she's falling apart, why she can't be the strong, perfect Jedi the rebels need her to be. 

"He questioned me, back on Starkiller," she begins. Poe gently takes her chin in his hand, and bends his neck slightly so he can look her in the face, concern and curiosity in his eyes as he runs his thumb across her jaw. She leans into the touch before pulling away to bury herself in his chest once more. This will be easier if she can't see him, can't see his reaction. 

"He took me, back at Maz's Cantina. He realized that I knew where BB-8 was, and what the map held, and he knocked me out. I woke up on Starkiller, strapped to a chair." 

"I've never been so scared in my life." Considering she once spent 20 terrifying hours trapped beneath a sheet of metal in the Jakku desert, that's saying something. "I couldn't move my arms or legs. I was completely helpless. When he asked me what I knew about BB-8, I told him that he was a BB-unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscan vindicator." She fights the urge to laugh hysterically, and one of Poe's hands comes to cradle the back of her head. 

"Good girl," he whispers hoarsely. His fingers pull through her hair, tangled and loose around her shoulders. 

She whispers, "He told me that he could just...take whatever he wanted." Poe makes a noise like he's been wounded and his heartbeat stutters. Rey doesn't immediately continue, too overcome with shame of what happened next. 

"Rey, sweetheart," Poe says. "Did he...did he hurt you?"

"Yes," she says simply, honestly. 

"That son of a bitch," he snarls. She hears his heartbeat pick back up, hammering in anger and adrenaline. "I'll kill him." She senses his signature, usually golden and clear, begin to darken. She realizes his assumption almost too late. 

"No!" she says, grabbing his shirt and sitting up slightly to look him in the face. What she sees in his eyes terrifies her--anger, disgust, fear, and unbridled concern for her--and something lights his face that's entirely different than his normal animation. "No, no, Poe. Not like that. Definitely not like that." 

He still looks semi-wild, but he doesn't question her. She leans back into his embrace, head once again resting on his chest, as she strokes her fingers over his collarbone in what she hopes is a soothing way. "No, not like that. He couldn't even see what he wanted. Instead, I felt something come to life inside of me. It pushed him back, and pushed right into his mind. I saw so much of him." 

"I haven't gotten rid of him since." 

"What?" Poe asks. Rey bites her lip, unsure of whether or not she should proceed. If she should reveal this, her darkest secret, to the sweet, trusting pilot holding her. Will he even want to hold her, after he knows? 

"He and I are...connected now. Somehow. I guess he activated the part of me that I'd always kept hidden, suppressed. My connection to the Force. And when I entered his mind at the same time he was in mine, we created a Force Bond. At least, that's what the Jedi texts I've been reading call it. Snoke claimed to have created it, in order to test our weaknesses, but it still worked, even after he died."

She knows she needs to clarify the parts that Poe, a solider and officer would most likely be concerned with. "I could see him, and he could see me, even when we were systems apart. Not our surroundings, just each other. We could hear each other over the bond sometimes, without speaking. And it's the Bond that convinced me that he could be saved. Unfortunately the Bond convinced him that I could be turned. We were both wrong."

"That's a lot of past tense. Is he gone now?" Poe asks, voice strangely steady for all of the information she's dumping on him. 

"Mostly. I haven't seen him since Crait. I closed the door on him, so to speak. Leia asked me to try to reach out to him today. Normally I only see him when I sleep, which is why I try to avoid sleep for as long as possible. But I guess willingly reaching out to that darkness made the dreams...worse...tonight. I'm so afraid that he's never going to let me go, that he won't stop until he has me, as his apprentice or otherwise. And it's made all the worse because I have to put up with knowing that Kylo Ren is the most evil person the galaxy, while also understanding that Ben Solo lives within him, and I might be able to save him. It's tearing me apart. And I'm so, so tired." 

Poe's voice is still steady as he says, "Thank you for trusting me with that." 

"You must think I'm a monster, too," She whispers. She steels herself, waiting for him to release her from his arms, to push her away and curse her for the disgusting creature she is. 

"I could never think that of you," his response is quick, assured. Rey almost believes him. "Rey, you're one of the most wonderful people I've ever met. The most wonderful. Just because the Force is trying to play with you and Kylo Ren-it doesn't mean you're a monster." She doesn't say anything, too caught up between hope and fear, so he combs his fingers through her hair some more, the arm still around her waist pulling her closer. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Kylo Ren was once an incredibly important person in my life. I loved Ben Solo. Part of me still loves him." Rey feels her own heart stop at the admission. "It's not up to us to save him, though. He's going to need to save himself. Just worry about you for now." 

She smiles, wearily. She definitely doesn't imagine it this time as he kisses the top of her head. Poe makes her feel so, so safe. Warmth settles over her limbs, and as he whispers, "Sleep, Sunshine," she can't help but obey. 

***

Poe looks around him as Rey sleeps peacefully on his chest.  Her body feels fragile in his arms, and he both hates and loves how one of his hands practically spans the width of her waist. He needs a distraction if he's going to survive the night, between the shock of the secret she'd told him, and how he's being driven crazy by the feeling of her in his arms. 

Rey's room is a closet. He'll start there. He's almost certainly sure she was assigned a private room on base, not too far from his own. Poe hates that he's never asked to visit her before, that it's always been Rey seeking him in the night, because he'd had no idea that she was sleeping in  _a closet_. Then again, he'd had no idea until tonight that she was struggling with sleep as much as he was. He'd wrongfully, stupidly assumed that she was reaching out to help him, not avoid her own issues. 

The closet is definitely homey though, lined with blankets she must have nicked from around base, and the shelves littered with things she's been collecting. He notices a dried flower sitting on one shelf, reverently laid out and in a place of honor on a clean handkerchief. Poe's heart swells with emotion as he imagines her joy at finding the flower. He knows her life before was hard, and some deep, primal part of him wants to rectify it, wants to keep her in his arms and protect her, provide for her. 

Poe's a weak man, and it was the knowledge of her intense suffering that stopped him from kissing her senseless earlier as she teased the skin of his collarbone. He must have done something to anger the Maker, to be tested like that. Rey seems to have no idea of the effect she has on him, and it's also her innocence that had caused him to hold back from pushing for more. He's glad he did, because it gave her time to tell him the truth. To share the load, and lighten the weight on her shoulders. He's glad he hadn't allowed himself to taint the moment with his base urges because he wouldn't trade anything in the galaxy for how she feels in his arms right now, asleep and trusting, sweet and safe. 

She hums quietly in her sleep, and nuzzles closer to him, fingers scrabbling at his shirt. He smiles, and tilts his head back to rest against the pillow propped against the wall. He closes his eyes, knowing he probably won't sleep like this, but he doesn't want to miss a second of it anyway. 

A cold feeling pours down the back of his neck. He stiffens, and opens his eyes. A shout dies in his throat as he sees the ghost of his best friend looming over them. 

Rey doesn't seem to sense his presence, and she slumbers on in his arms. Poe sits up as much as he can, one hand going to cover her head and pull it tighter to him, the other blocking her body as much as possible. 

Ben, Kylo, whatever he's called, stares down at them, frozen, looking enraged and broken by sadness as he takes in the scene.

"Get away from her," Poe grits out between his teeth. Kylo shakes his head, and reaches out once before dropping his hand. 

"How long?" he asks, softly and surprisingly calm. 

"How long what?" Poe snaps. 

"How long has _this_ been happening?" His voice loses some of its forced calm, as he gestures over the mattress. Poe's eyes widen as he realizes what Kylo has assumed. It's not a terribly large jump to make; they're both in their sleepclothes and tightly wrapped around each other, in a bed no less.  

Before Poe can figure out how to respond, Kylo fades from view. 

Heart pounding, Poe waits for dawn, his whole galaxy in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Ben.  
> His POV next chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> And yes, I did listen to the title song while writing part of this, loving the implication of the lyrics, i.e. "Make me lie when I don't want to...make me stare when I should not"  
> (if you haven't heard it, give it a go https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6a8MRbHf5pA )
> 
>  
> 
> Ben is highly compelling in my opinion (and I can see why Rey is drawn to him) but also he has a tendency to be possessive and there's a lot of abusive history between them (which is why I'm a sucker for a good re-write/fix-it Reylo AU).


	7. Somebody's Watching Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo reacts (badly) to what he thinks he saw.
> 
>  
> 
> Hux is un-amused

Kylo felt her, of course, as she reached out to him through the Force. He'd worked for weeks to block her from him, only daring to drop the shields and appear by her side when she was deep in sleep.

She'd recoiled from him when she finally found him ( _clever girl_ ) overcome with the vision provided to her by the Force. He'd seen his mother holding her as they both recovered from the shock of seeing his true self. 

To be honest, he isn't ready to talk to her again, not after the throne room. Certainly not after he'd screamed at his uncle that he'd destroy her. He's not ready for her to call him Ben, hazel eyes wide and trusting.

He will break her, the way he's broken every single good thing in his life. Kylo didn't threaten to destroy her that day. He was only admitting what he knew to be true: he knew that she'd be destroyed if he so much as touched her, beyond their Bond. 

The memory of her fingertips against his crashes into him, threatening to drown him under the waves of sensation. He only has to reach out briefly to ascertain that she's sleeping. He's unsure if it's wise to visit her. He has an important meeting with Hux in the morning; he knows that he's been volatile of late. He needs to rise above, needs to rise to the glory of his grandfather. 

Kylo sits against the wall, facing his bed in his dark room aboard _Vader_ _II._ His shirt is cast to the side, and he grips his knees tightly, struggling against the urge to see her. Grunting in exhaustion, he slides his legs into a crossed position. His weaker half won. He'll see her, tonight. 

He breathes rhythmically, willing himself into a Force-trance. Kylo searches the galaxy of signatures for her, the scavenger with a spine made of steel, skin of diamonds. The only person who'd pushed back on him, with any degree of success, for six years. 

The moment he finds her, he wishes he hadn't. 

From his perspective, she reclines on his bed, white sleeping clothes a striking contrast against the black sheets, hair loose and spread...across the chest of a man. Not just any man.

It's Poe.

_It's not fun to always be right, is it, Supreme Leader._

The curls of Ben Solo's childhood friend are so dark, they almost blend into the pillow behind him. His hand is tangled in the scavenger's hair, his shirt unbuttoned, and one arm crooked around her waist. Kylo feels the tempestuous monster of jealousy stirring in his chest. It couldn't be clearer what they had been doing. Rey looks exhausted, but her breathing is peaceful for once. 

Kylo fights Ben Solo down for the hundredth time in as many hours as the weak boy inside him thrills at seeing her sleep so well. She usually looks much less peaceful when he sees her, eyes clenched against nightmares, brow sweating, whimpers escaping her perfect mouth. 

Kylo had been the one to stay with her during the nightmares, tried to guide her spirit through them. All those nights, the last six weeks, he'd been by her side while she slept, acting as her guardian, her teacher.  _Where the hell was Poe Dameron then?_ A voice, not unlike Snoke's, growls in his mind). 

Poe Dameron looks...younger than the last time he'd seen him. Ben Solo had given Kylo no rest in the last seven weeks, since he'd strapped his best friend to a chair and tortured him in every possible way. The screams skirt the edge of his consciousness even now, growing louder and more pressing in the presence of the pilot. 

He rises, and walks closer to the bed until he stands over them. 

As if he'd shocked him with electricity, Poe Dameron's eyes fly open. He lifts his head, blearily, and his soldier's eyes lock onto Kylo. The fear on his face causes Kylo to bask in smugness. The fear on his face stabs a shard of guilt through Ben Solo's heart. 

Poe tries to sit up without disturbing the girl in his embrace. Kylo is irate to note how he cradles her to him. As if  _he_ could protect  _her._ As if Kylo wanted to do her any ill. She's unknowingly been at his mercy for weeks, and has she suffered for it? 

The bags under her eyes suggest that maybe she has. He fights down the grief to figure out how to proceed. Poe stares him down, still clutching at the girl.  _Who talks first_? A voice torments him from Ben's memories. 

"Get away from her," Poe manages to bite at him. So, they've established who's talking first.

Kylo shakes his head, and realizes that his hand is rising to choke the life out of the pilot. The specter of Ben Solo forces it back down. He manages to ask his question, in an attempt to tame the beast inside him. 

"How long?" he demands, trying to calm himself while waiting for the confirmation of his worst nightmare. 

"How long what?" Poe asks, suspiciously. There had been no fear in those eyes as Kylo had ripped his mind in half, only grim acceptance and determination. There's light-years of fear now. For the girl's sake, he assumes. How quaint.

"How long has  _this_  been happening?" His voice loses some of its forced calm, as he gestures over the mattress. Poe's eyes widen: in fear? in anger? Whatever it is, it's nothing compared to the maelstrom inside of Kylo. How ironic, that the girl would resurrect Ben Solo long enough to ensure his total destruction.

The pilot and the Jedi are ripped from Kylo's sight before he can do anything more. 

He destroys fifteen rooms aboard  _Vader II_  that night. He doesn't even use his saber.

***

The next day, at the generals' meeting, Kylo Ren is beyond volatile. He Force-chokes three men, throws several Stormtroopers bodily from the room, and stabs his saber through a control panel _and_ the star-map in the middle of the room.

"Find the girl," he screams at General Horok, the Twi'lek scurrying from the room as she heads towards her ship, ostensibly to corral her men into their latest mission (or to get out of the Supreme Leader's way). 

The rest of the officers flee as soon as they're dismissed. Kylo slams his fists down on the table in the middle of the room, back bent and chest heaving from the exertion of having  _not_ killed every incompetent half-wit in a mile-radius, although where would that leave the First Order?

Someone clears their throat in his vicinity. Kylo looks up through the fringe of his hair to see Hux sneering at him as if he were something distasteful he'd scraped off the bottom of his immaculate black boot. 

"Supreme Leader," he sniffs, making the title seem condescending. "Do you really think our efforts should be focused on finding this 'Rey'?" 

Without straightening his spine, Kylo reaches his left hand out, pulling Hux to him through the Force. His throat hits Kylo's palm with a dull thump, and Kylo applies the barest pressure to his windpipe. To his credit, Hux seems unsurprised by this development, oily bangs flopping in his eyes, face threatening to turn the same flaming red as his hair. 

"The girl is the heart of the Rebellion, General," he growls. "If we find her, snuff out her light, we destroy them. Don't question me again."

"And don't say her name," he adds as an afterthought, sweeping towards the door. 

He doesn't even wait for a gasped "Yes, Supreme Leader," only releasing Hux as the doors hiss shut behind him. 

Stormtroopers and officers alike dive out of the way as the Supreme Leader storms down the hallway.

He's glad for his mask. He doesn't want to explain the tears in his eyes to anyone. 

Kylo Ren doesn't know how to explain how much Ben Solo needs Rey. He doesn't know how to explain that there might not be a difference between Kylo and Ben anymore.

 


	8. Talk of Shovels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe has some explaining to do.
> 
> ~We interrupt your regularly scheduled pain to bring you unapologetic fluff~

The next morning, Poe wakes from the half-doze he was able to achieve against the closet wall. The discomfort combined with seeing his best friend (and possible mortal enemy) appear, uninvited, in the room of the girl he more-than-likes made it a little hard to sleep. 

It must be near Standard Dawn, as the base lights are humming to their usual daytime brightness. The rest of the Rebels will be awake soon, and Rey begins to stir against his chest. A wave of affection hits Poe as she yawns, stretching one hand out like a lazy Tooka, fingers dragging across his chest deliciously, eventually hooking them over his shoulder. Her back arches as she adjusts her body, causing her to press into Poe's torso in a way that makes him bite back a hiss. 

He desperately tries to remember the training manual of the T-65 X-wing Starfighter as a way to distract himself. 

Rey buries her nose into his collarbone, almost purring in contentedness. That's about when Poe decides that yeah, Kylo Ren actually killed him last night, and he's ascended into the heavens, because there's no way this is happening to him. His fingers gently squeeze her shoulder, the other hand going to brush her hair from her face. 

"Rey?"

She makes a squeaking noise as she startles fully awake. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!" She bolts upright, scooting across the mattress to sit opposite him. Her hair is wild, and a hand clamps over her mouth. 

Poe's inclined to be in a good mood right now, and he crosses his arms behind his head as he asks, playfully, "Sorry for what?"

"For using you like a pillow!" He laughs. He thinks it's pretty clear that he didn't mind. "Oh no, you stayed here all night! That's sweet, but hells, that's so embarrassing."

"How is it embarrassing, sweetness? I would have left if I didn't want to be here."

Overcome by her mortification, Rey waves her hand at him, and mumbles something incoherent. 

"Begging your pardon, Commander?" 

"I said, Igotdroolonyourshirt." She's lucky Kes Dameron speaks faster than a droid on an energy-high, because he manages to catch her meaning without making her say it yet again. 

Poe looks down. Sure enough, there's a wet patch about three inches wide on his sleepshirt, cooling against his skin in the absence of Rey's warmth. 

"Huh, you did." She hides her face in her hands. "I really don't mind, Sunshine." 

Peeking out cautiously from behind her fingers, Rey looks at him to see if he's telling the truth. He smiles at her, easy and full. Something strange passes between them, then. It feels like she's taken his hand, but she hasn't moved. The stillness that suddenly springs around them in their surroundings doesn't bother Poe. He's been moving, running, fidgeting his whole life, but now he's sitting absolutely still, and he couldn't be happier. 

It feels like this when they meditate, he realizes, when she holds his hand and guides him with the Force. But neither one is meditating right now. 

Rey appears to be just as captivated by the feeling, her head tilting as she looks at him in peaceful wonderment. It's too much for him after a long night, a nasty shock, and a lifetime's worth of confessions ( _you were too afraid to tell her of what you've done, what you've seen,_ his self-doubt whispers), so he looks away and clears his throat. 

Luckily, distraction appears in the form of a poster on the wall.

"Hey there, Sunshine," he says, looking back and forth between her and the wall, the wall and her. "You didn't say you were a fan!"

Rey startles and turns to where he's been looking. She flies up without warning, covering it with her body. "It was already here when I moved in!" She protests. "Don't look!"

"I already saw it!" The poster is of a younger Poe Dameron, standing on the ladder of an X-Wing, staring off into the distance as the wind tousles his hair. 

There had been a recruitment team that had come around, back when the First Order revealed itself as the evil it was, and they had spent a day taking photos of the Resistance. The shot of Poe climbing aboard his ship in his flightsuit had been absolutely candid, un-posed. Not that anyone believed him. Someone had taken the time to get  _physical_ posters mocked up, much to his chagrin and protestations. Snap had even papered his room at the barracks back on Hosnian Prime with them. He'd thought it horrible at the time.

A few years—and a million _actual_ horrible things—later, Poe doesn't mind them so much. He sort of thinks they're hilarious. And the fact that one's appeared in Rey's room, like he was some holo-star for her to swoon over, pleases him in a weird, but not unwelcome, way. 

"Oh, hush! It was already there, Poe!" He swears she stamps her foot, and if that isn't the funniest thing he's ever seen--the last Jedi, the woman seemingly destined to be the First Order's downfall, the heart of the Rebellion  _stamping her foot--_ he'll eat BB-8.

Poe's laughing happily now, harder than he has in months. Gods it feels good to laugh. He can't even stop as she huffs angrily, running her fingers through her hair as she pulls a long vest over her tunic, and snags the staff he rarely sees her without. 

"Shut up, you nerf herder!" He howls louder in mirth, clutching his sides. Rey giggles too, once, and then brandishes her staff at him in mock-outrage. 

"You're horrible!" She says, the laughter more evident now in her voice. It's clear she's about to make her escape, so he stands as well as he can while dying of laughter, so he can at least open the door for her.

"I am! I really am! I am a horrible, horrible man!" He laughs a few more times and then sobers, quickly, as he realizes that they're face-to-face. 

As powerful as she is, he forgets that she's so much smaller than him. He easily weighs 60 pounds more than she does, but she's also more than an inch shorter than him (and he's a vain man, but he knows he isn't what anyone would call tall, instead making up for it in broadness). His breathing is uneven as he looks down at her, and she looks up at him. He spent the whole night with her in his arms, something he won't likely forget even when he's 90 years old, with no teeth and alone with BB-8, but this feels like something  _more._

The spell is broken a moment later when she boops him on the nose with her staff. "Horrible, indeed," she sniffs. She flings the door open and flounces out in the hallway. 

"Horrible, horrible man!" She shouts over her shoulder. Outside her door now, Poe watches her skip away, a pleasant coil forming in his stomach as he sees how she twitches her hips, innocently unaware of how tempting it makes her look. He has half a mind to follow her, to beg for more of her time like the greedy beast inside him is telling him to, when he's stopped by a voice from behind him. 

"What the hell was that?"

Poe turns to see his best friend standing there, arms crossed, wearing the jacket Poe gave him before Starkiller. 

"Finn! Buddy! Good morning, how you doin'?" He walks over and claps him on the shoulder. 

In return, Finn looks like he wants to murder him. _Huh. That's an interesting development,_ Poe thinks. 

"What the  _hell_ was that?" Finn demands, again. 

Almost too late, Poe realizes what Finn's referring to, the understanding pouring over him like cold water. He’s still in his sleepshirt, for Forcessake. "Oh! Oh, that. Well, last night Rey had a nightmare, so I stayed with her." 

"Oh, I bet you did," Finn says, nodding. His eyes squint as he regards Poe. "I bet you did, flyboy." 

"It's not like that, buddy, I swear." Gods, Poe wishes it were like that. That's probably the sentiment Finn sees on his face, because his eyes narrow even further. 

"Don't hurt her, Dameron." 

"I have no intention to. Also, not sleeping with her." 

"Mhm." Finn looks entirely unconvinced, but after one more threatening look, he shrugs, and rolls his shoulder in the direction of the mess hall. They head off to breakfast, and Poe only has to deal with the silent treatment for about ten minutes before Finn forgets why he was mad in the first place, their easy banter building up between them like usual.

Rey is helping the General with a project, so he doesn't see her for the rest of the day. He has to stick to the memory of her in his arms to get through the monotony of Centaxday. 

***  
A day after he saw Kylo in Rey's room, Poe's coming out of the communal exercise center, rubbing his face with a towel, when he bumps into Rose. 

He yelps in a decidedly non-Commander-like way, almost falling onto his ass, before catching himself. 

"H-hey, Rose." 

"Dameron." Her usually warm, friendly brown eyes are glaring up at him. He feels suddenly nervous and exposed, as if he'd forgotten to put his pants on. 

"What's up?"

Her small finger jabs into his chest. "You know exactly what's up, Dameron." 

Furiously, he tries to think of what he could have done. He hasn't fried an engine she's assigned to in over a year, hasn't left his X-Wing parked in the wrong spot in the last month. He hasn't allowed BB-8 to flirt with her favorite T3-repair droids, either, so she can't be blaming him for one of them being distracted. 

"What exactly are you doing with Rey?" Rose snaps at him.  _Oh, kriff._

 _"_ Nothing!" He shouts. Rose pulls a rusty mecha-prod out of her pocket and it crackles to life, threateningly. 

His hands come up in front of his chest in a defensive position. "Easy there, Tico. I'm a commanding officer." She rolls her eyes and zaps him with it on his elbow. 

"Hey!" he says, arm tingling unpleasantly. "That hurt!" 

"Good!" She says. "That's the lowest setting. There are  _forty more_ voltage settings where that came from! Now, I'm sure you know this, as a person with eyes, but Rey isn't like most people. She's good and she's kind, and she's important to me. To all of us. And not to be rude, but I've seen you go through girls faster than a pod-racer with a non-reg engine goes through fuel." Shame sits, hot and heavy, in Poe's stomach. One of those girls had been Paige Tico, once upon a time.

This guilt clearly shows on his face, because she rolls her eyes again. "No, I don't want you to be sad about Paige—at least, not sad because of that. You two always had fun together, and you didn't hurt her feelings. She told me you were a great date. Also,  _she_  dumped  _you_ , bantha brains. You didn't _hurt_ most of the girls you went with!" Poe's chest had been tightening painfully at the mention of his past flings (gods, he hates how many of those people are now dead, lost to him forever), and Rose's reassurance helps it loosen, just a little bit. 

It's funny that she can be threatening him and comforting him at the same time. Rose has always been special like that. 

"But, Poe. You have a reputation around base as being a bit free,” Well, that’s a diplomatic way of putting it. The General has been a bad influence on Rose, “a bit too flighty with your love, your attention.  You can't be like that with Rey." She looks at him seriously, most of the anger gone from her eyes as she continues. "You cannot be flighty with her affection. If she gives it to you, you need to treat it like the gift it is. Because it  _is_ a gift." 

"It's not like that, Rose. I was just helping her after a nightmare, honest." His hands are still guarding his chest. 

"I'm not Finn, idiot. I know you aren't sleeping with her." He breathes a sigh of relief, but before he knows it, the mecha-prod is back, waving dangerously in front of his nose. He gulps, and presses backwards against the door. "But, I also know that you want to. And, I know that you currently make her happy, which puts you in the fortunate position of not being on my bad list."

"Treat her well, Dameron. Don't get on my bad list." Without another word, the mecha-prod is off and in her pocket, and Rose salutes smartly, turning on her heel and marching swiftly down the hallway. 

Poe sinks against the wall, and five minutes later, he's still sitting there, lost in thought when Finn stumbles over him.

"You okay, man?"

"Kriff, buddy, your girlfriend is terrifying."

Finn smiles, beyond fond. "Yeah, I know. She's great."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for this chapter: *** Poe calls Rey Commander at one point, which was the title/position given to Jedi ~Padawan~ during the Clone Wars. 
> 
> The order of ranking will be continued here, and hopefully her progression of titles will make sense!
> 
> Notes for the fic in general:  
> Okay guys, I've written 30K+ words in the last seven days for this MONSTER. 
> 
> Chapters 9-11 are outlined, and hopefully will be done in the next couple days.
> 
> Chapters 12-15 are written and done (because when I have an idea I run with it, actual linear progression of plot be damned). 
> 
> Oh, and two major smut scenes (let me know if that's something you want to see b/c honestly I'm not sure if that's what y'all are looking for). Like seriously, there are 19 pages of just that. Oops.


	9. Thirty Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe/Rey/Poe POV
> 
>  
> 
> Poe gets some good news, and a few surprises.

The next few weeks drag by. General Organa seems determined to put him through his paces. Poe has meeting after meeting with people who’d barely known his name outside his X-wing call-sign before Crait, and they’re suddenly asking his opinion on how to resurrect the Resistance’s Navy. He runs drills with recruits in the afternoon; there are over a hundred of them now, the word spreading of a powerful Jedi chosen to take the place of legendary Luke Skywalker after his fearless sacrifice. Rey doesn’t disappoint; the entirety of the Resistance is officially in love with her.

Poe may be included in that figure. A little.

One hundred new people means endless testing, training, and re-testing. There are new pilots, mechanics, and infantry for him and the other commanding officers to sift through. His schedule stacks up so that he can’t eat in mess with Rey, Finn, and Rose anymore. Poe still gets to see Rey at night. She comes to his door every nightfall without fail, and they meditate for several hours before she leaves him. He cannot sleep without it anymore, and as the days wear on he depends on the feeling of her hands in his for those brief hours to keep his sanity.  

“You have the day off, Commander.” Leia says to him on a Primeday almost three months after they fled from Crait. There’s a twinkle in her eye as she sees him fidget with the sleeve of his uniform, eyes already darting out the door of Central Command.

“And, Poe,” she says, catching his eye once more. He stands at attention.

“Yes, General?”

“Keep up the good work. We’ll be calling you Colonel soon enough, if the next Gen-Ad meeting goes as planned.”

Poe blinks in confusion. He’d committed mutiny not even three months prior. If the Generals and Admirals will be discussing him for a promotion, that means they’ve just decided to…let it go?

As Force-Sensitive as ever, Leia laughs at his reaction. “You may be confused at the decision, Poe, but you have to remember, those final days were a bit of a mess. It appears the official report of your insubordination may have…gotten lost. Or maybe it was never written.” She shrugs in pointed disinterest.

“Guess we’ll never know. Dismissed.”

Poe’s walking on air as he heads through the rabbit warren of the underground base. He’ll make Colonel, next week. He’ll have to include that on his weekly call to Kes.

At the entrance to the mechanics bay, he realizes where his feet have led him. The traitors. He meant to go back to his bunk, lay low for the morning and then make a surprise appearance at lunch. But, he’s here now, and he might as well check on the mechanics as they play with the outdated X-wing fleet on base.

Poe walks around, slapping old friends on the back, and rubbing some T3s on the belly. BB-8 comes zipping over, beeping excitedly. He gets down on one knee to pat his droid on the head. “Hey, Beebee, buddy!”

[Master-Poe!] it trills. [Are your meetings over?]

“Yeah, little guy. I have the day off.”

[You must tell Rey, Status: Hero-and-Savior!] Poe thinks there’s a reason Beebee’s given Rey that designation, because he had used it before Poe had even met Rey back on Crait, but the droid had just beeped _Classified!_ when he’d requested to know.

“I will in a little bit, Beebee. I’m sure she’s busy right now.” BB-8 does _not_ like that answer, and it beeps excitedly about _friendship_ and _no one is_ _ever too busy for Poe_ and rams its little body under Poe’s feet, forcing him to stumble forward. [Rose, Status: Friend was just asking Rey, Status: Hero-and-Savior if you had spent the night again].

Oh, that can’t be good. Poe swears he can still feel where Rose zapped him a few weeks ago. “Yeah, buddy? Did Rey seem mad about that?”

[Rey, Status: Hero-and-Savior turned a strange color, and my heat sensors indicated an increase in body temperature. Does that reaction mean _mad_?]

Poe considers the droid, dumbfounded. He shakes his head. “No, no it doesn’t.” Rey was probably just embarrassed to have her nightly exploits discussed so openly in public.

BB-8 finally gets him to where it wants him; he can see Rey’s station. She’s elbow deep in the engine of an X-Wing that’s been half-painted green, a conducting coil in one hand, and a welder’s helmet perched on her head.

As he watches, Rey roars with laughter at something Rose has said. Poe feels himself dragged in, a hopeless planet in the orbit of her sun.

 “Hey, ladies,” he says, coming to rest at the edge of the platform. Rey gestures for him to climb up, and he does, powerless to deny her anything.

“What are you working on?”

Rey grabs a pair of gloves from the side table and grabs a welding-torch. “I’m making mods to this X-wing!” she chirps, just barely loud enough to be heard over the torch as she tests its ignitor. “Whew, this thing really glows!” She stares at it, delighted. Rose grins at her. The girls have become increasingly closer the last couple months, drawn together by their mutual love for machines, and a shared appreciation for the smaller things.

“I can see that, Sunshine,” Poe laughs. “And watch where you point that thing.”

“Oh, you coward. I know how to use this, you’re totally safe.”

Rose cocks her eyebrow at their interaction. “It’s not his fault, Rey. And don’t let him an inch nearer to our baby.” She pats the side, lovingly. “Knight One needs to be in perfect condition for her inaugural flight. And pilots are somehow even more dangerous down here in the guts of the ship than they are in the cockpit.”

“Come on,” Poe teases, “I’ve been reliably told that I’m the best pilot in the Resistance.”

Rose jabs her ever-present mecha-prod at him. Both girls laugh as he jumps back. “Nuh-uh, flyboy. The best at crashing my ships, maybe.” Poe raises his hands in defeat, and Rose waves at them both on her way off the platform. “I’m going to go watch Finn figure out the arsenal. Sounds more entertaining than watching Poe blow something up from the ground for once.” They watch her go, and then Rey turns back to the ship. Poe turns back to Rey.

“Ignore Rose,” Rey tells him, still smiling. “I just want to finish this inhibitor, and then maybe we can grab lunch?” Poe tries to ignore the thrill of her initiating a shared meal. “This gal’s quickly becoming the tester for a lot of the modifications we’re planning for the rest of the X-wings. Any mods the great Poe Dameron would like to see on some of his fleet?”

She’s amazing. Remarkable. Perfect. And much too young and special to want him.

“Yeah,” he remembers to answer. “Yeah actually, I was wondering if there was something we could do about Hyperspace Tracking.”

The look on her face is inscrutable, but he continues anyway. “It terrifies me, that they can follow us through Hyperspace,” he admits, jaw tight as he remembers those 18 hours of hell trapped aboard _The_ _Raddus,_ the fear that had driven him to rebel against Holdo, who turned out to be the hero he could only ever hope to be.

“It terrifies me, too.” She stops speaking briefly, flipping the protective mask over her face as she solders a complicated-looking circuit in place. Sparks fly for a few seconds, and Poe keeps his distance while trying to peer into guts of the X-wing. When she’s done, she pulls the mask up, and he’s pleased to see that she’s smiling as she fumbles with the large gloves that had been dwarfing her hands and forearms. “And it’s very convenient that you said that. That’s actually what I’m doing here, attaching this little board. I designed it to redirect and scramble any unwanted and unknown tracking beacons. They won’t be able to latch onto me if this works.”

“I refuse to be on a string attached to Kylo Ren any more than I have to be.” She rips the gloves all the way off and tosses them back on her workbench.

Poe sees a smear of grease on her opposite cheekbone as she turns to him, determined and so _alive_ , and his breath leaves him in an instant. She’s sweaty, filthy even, from her hard work, fingers red from where she’s been clutching hot tools all day.

He’s never seen anything so beautiful.

She brushes a hand across her forehead, laughing at something Beebee’s said back on the ground, something that he missed because Poe is utterly distracted.

**

“Would you pass me that hydrospanner?” She asks Poe. He looks like he’s been hit over the head, and she’s hoping this will bring him back down from wherever he’s gone off to.

“Poe? The hydrospanner?” He looks around, aimlessly. BB-8 beeps down out of sight: [The red thing].

Poe grabs it and throws it her way. Rey catches it, laughing, and grabs his wrist to pull him closer to the engine.

“Phew, it’s hot in there,” he says, finding his voice finally. Rey hums in agreement, and uses the hydrospanner to examine the interior of the ship and test her soldering job.

When she looks up, meaning to ask Poe if he’s even hungry enough for lunch, or does he want to see a really cool trick she learned how to do with her lightsaber, when she’s caught off-guard, her voice dying in her throat.

Poe stands next to her, his hair even curlier than normal from the humid air of the hangar. His attention is fixed on the inside of Knight One, and Rey feels the hydrospanner slipping from her grip as she stares at him.

Specifically, at a bead of sweat that’s formed somewhere under his ear, and has slid down his jaw. It’s currently making its way down his neck, and she knows it’ll pool on his collarbone soon.

Rey is struck by an _overwhelming, consuming_  urge to lick it away.

She’s debating the social merits versus the social misconduct involved in such an action. Rey doesn’t think it’s considered appropriate, how she wants to drag her tongue from the hollow of his throat to the shell of his ear, but she hasn’t really ever wanted to do that before, so she doesn’t have a lot to work with, here.

It hits her like a freighter going full speed. Kriff, she wants him. She’s never wanted anyone, and she wants Poe. Good, sweet, strong, handsome, unattainable Poe Dameron. Who probably will only ever see her as the girl who hides from her nightmares, and who forgets to chew before swallowing at most meals.

She’s snapped from her internal conflict by the booming voice of Commander Snap.

“Commander Dameron!” he shouts.

The pilot looks down off the platform, jerking away from Knight One and Rey as if he’d been electrocuted. Poe groans when he sees Snap. “Oh, hells.”

Rey doesn’t see the problem, but she does see that Snap has a large…she doesn’t have a word for it. It looks like a very large, icing covered version of the dessert she gets once a week from the base cook.

“I don’t even like cake, Snap.” Poe shouts back. There’s a crowd forming behind Snap, now, mechanics, and recruits, and at the back, Finn and Rose, who stand shoulder to shoulder grinning in absolute mischief.

“Happy birthday!” The crowd screams. Rey feels something die inside of her. Poe laughs, and jumps down off the platform. He’s quickly surrounded, dragged towards the middle of the group, where Snap waits with the large _cake,_ which now looks like it’s on fire.

“Thirty candles for thirty years, old man!” roars Snap.

“Switch off, jackass, you’re 38!” The entire hangar is full of laughter, and joy, and Rey had no idea it was even his birthday.

Poe walks around like the beloved celebrity he is, pounding fists with the scores of people, and hugging more people in five seconds than she has in her entire life.

Rey stands alone on the platform, forgotten.

She didn’t know you were supposed to celebrate birthdays.

**

Rey sends him a message, calling him to the north entrance that night, an hour before nightfall. There’s no explanation, but Poe goes anyway. Anything to get away from the endless barrage of alcohol and shouting and never-ending laughter that awaits him in the barracks. Poe appreciates it, but what he really wants is silence. What he really wants is Rey’s hands in his as they breathe in and out, trying to forget their demons for a few brief hours.

He jogs to the entrance, five minutes early.

Rey stands there, facing slightly away from him, looking unsure and worried. Poe’s heartrate picks up. Had she seen Kylo, again? Does she need something?

As he nears her, she turns to face him fully, and his worries dissipate the second her face lights up in a happy smile. A smile that’s just for him. He takes in her appearance fully: she's wearing a green dress. It's the first time he's seen her in something other than a shirt and pants, and he can both understand and hate why she doesn't dress like this normally. The dress is diaphanous and beautiful. It hugs her curves in a way that's damn unfair. If she wore that, she wouldn't be able to play around in engines all day. And, on a more personal note, if she wore that, he wouldn't be able to get anything done. Most people wouldn't, to be fair.

With her hair braided in a crown around her head, Rey looks like a goddess come to somehow both torment and save him. 

"Hi," he says. As if 'hi' could do any of this justice. He feels entire universes of untapped emotion for her, and he goes with 'hi.' 

“Hi!" She greets him, unaware of the self-loathing chain reaction he accidentally set off inside his head. "I wanted to show you something,” she says, reaching out for his hand. For _his_ hand. Poe reaches back without thinking. “Do you trust me?” He nods.

“Yeah, I trust you Sunshine.” She grins even wider, eyes still a little uncertain.

“Okay. And before you say anything, I got special permission from the General for this. We have thirty minutes.”

She keys a code into the doorlock, and it hisses open. The first fresh air Poe’s smelled in three months hits him, and he’s smiling too.

“Wow,” he murmurs, just breathing it in.

“That’s not it,” Rey laughs, “But I’m glad this is already going so well.”

She leads him by the hand out the doors. The planet that houses the base is nothing special. The environment looks mostly like a field, the sky darkened by clouds, wind waving through the bladegrass for miles away. They stand just outside the doorway, and Rey releases his hand. Poe instantly misses it.

Rey takes several steps away from him, into the field, walking backwards so she can keep her eyes on his face.

“Now, hear me out,” she says. He’s listening already, of course. “But, I know you’re from Yavin 4, and Leia told me that it’s almost always the rainy season there.” Poe nods, not sure where she’s going with this. He hasn’t seen a Yavinese rainstorm in years, but it’s usually raining when he calls Kes.

“Okay. Well, the planet that we’re on, it doesn’t really storm. Something about groundwater reservoirs and a lack of an actual climate. But, every once in a while…” As if on cue, the wind picks up even more, and in the distance, lightning flashes. “Every once in a while, it rains. And if I’m right, it’s about to…” she’s cut off by a sound that makes Poe’s heart sing with nostalgia.

 It’s the sound of wind barreling over ground, of rain hitting the earth, slowly at first, but picking up speed, more and more water descending from the sky. Rey tilts her head back, sticking her tongue out to taste the drops, and Poe feels younger than he has in years. “Come on!” She calls to him.

He walks into the increasing rain, eyes never leaving Rey as she twirls excitedly. When he gets to her side, she laughs. The rain is beginning to fall in sheets around them. Rey grabs both his hands in hers, and she tilts her head back again, and she _screams,_ carefree and happy.

Pulling on his hands while she leans back, she manages to get them spinning. Poe swears he can hear the song his mother used to sing to him on stormy days between the raindrops, and it’s to that beat that he moves his arms, his legs, his hips, dancing with Rey beneath a weeping sky.

Rey smiles, moving clumsily at first, but then finding the rhythm, her natural athleticism and enthusiasm helping her pick it up eventually.

“I’ve never done this before,” she tells him, face scrunched up in happiness as he twirls her with his left arm.

“Done what?” He asks, catching her, her back to his front. He always asks to her explain when she admits something is her first. He always loves it when she shares a first with him.

“Danced!” She twirls away from him again. They spin, delighting in the rain, taking turns catching it in their mouths. At one point, Rey puffs her cheeks like a fish and sprays it all over him. He retaliates by kicking some mud at her, which just makes her laugh harder.

There’s a beat, a pause as they circle each other, and,

“You feel like gold,” she tells him, the rain coming down louder and louder, the humidity forming halos around their heads. They both stand still, a few feet apart.

Poe swears he’s misheard her.

“What?” he shouts at her, hoping to hear her a little better. She steps closer towards him, and on instinct, he wraps his arms around her waist. There’s still about half a foot of distance between their bodies, as he’s terrified of what he’ll do when he can fully experience the press of her against him, when he feels the shape of her body under her wet, clinging dress.

“Your Force signature,” she explains, eyes brightened by her unbridled joy. She shakes water out of her hair, fruitlessly, and smiles wider. “It’s _golden_. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She places a hand on his chest, right over his heart, for emphasis. He smiles back at her, her clear enthusiasm infectious. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. Most people are grey, and they fade into the Force. They’re still important, and they’re still these little points of light. I can ignore them. I can’t ignore you. Ever.” The heat of her hand burns through his shirt. He’ll be able to feel it in the morning.

“Maybe it’s because we meditate together almost every day, but I think it was there before that. You’re here, and you’re golden, and it’s almost blinding sometimes.” She looks nervous now, hands smoothing at his shirt where it covers his shoulders. Poe holds his breath, willing his body to not respond the way it wants to, the way it’s wired to, when a beautiful woman is touching it. This moment is clearly more important than his growing need to be ever nearer to her.  

“Poe, I think we have a Bond.”

His throat is suddenly dry. She’s felt it too, then. He’d thought he was trapped in her orbit, lost forever to follow her through space with the sustaining hope that she’d cast some of her light on him a few times now and then; but, maybe it’s that they’re circling each other, connected by something bigger than either of them, celestial objects aligning with a purpose.

“Yeah, sunshine,” he settles on simple agreement, deciding to hide his absurd happiness a little longer. “I think so, too.”

Thunder cracks, loud and all around them. Rey leaps closer to him, startled. Looking at the sky, she laughs, wildly. “Oh!” Poe swallows, forcibly, and she catches up to him; he can see when she realizes that there’s not a molecule of space between them, now. “Oh.”

She blinks up at him, the rain catching on her eyelashes, droplets running down her face and into her mouth—he forces himself not to stare at her lips for more than a second longer than he has to—which opens and closes. She’s clearly searching for her next words.

Rey’s smile is wild and sweet and almost lethal in its ability to make his heart stop.

“Happy birthday, Poe.”


	10. Don't Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe is promoted to Colonel. 
> 
> His first task is to undergo a joint Navy-Army reconnaissance mission with his close friend and First Order-insider, Finn; they're investigating whispers of a bio-weapon with the potential to incapacitate entire populations. 
> 
> Seven weeks away from Base on a classified mission in a tailor-engineered tandem X-Wing with his best buddy--a year ago, this would have been everything he ever wanted. 
> 
> Now, he knows it means seven weeks away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some somewhat-graphic depictions of being sick (they come into contact with a bio-terrorist weapon), and some potentially disturbing descriptions of the effect of the weapon on innocent civilians.

Poe Dameron receives his Colonel badge on an otherwise typical Zheliday, the officers assembled under the dim lighting of Central Command.

Leia Organa pins his new bars on his uniform, the silver patch and blue lines standing out proudly against the brown cloth.

He’s overcome with a thousand uncontrollable emotions, but he remains at attention, chest out, shoulders and spine straight, chin up.

The General smiles at him as the room behind her breaks into applause. She turns and speaks to the room, talking of valor and loyalty, but also of kindness and growth.

Poe hears none of it as his throat works furiously against grief. He wishes his father were here. His mother. She should have lived to see this day. Black-Squadron, who are now all, excluding Snap, mere ash scattered across the galaxy. His failures rise in his chest, even as Leia speaks of his talent—as if being decent at flying an X-wing could erase what he’s done _—_ and he would trade this promotion in a heartbeat to bring back a single one of the lives he’s responsible for losing.

The tension in Poe’s chest is met with a calming warmth. It eases into his muscles, spreading a feeling of effusive lightness to his very core.

He recognizes the feeling as pride and something else; it isn’t coming from him. He comes back into himself, away from the grief pulling him out of the moment, and as Leia’s clipped, all-business voice says, “and an absolute credit to the Navy of the Resistance,” he finds Rey’s eyes shining at him from the front row of officers.

She’s wearing that dress again. The color reminds him of home, of the tree in the corner of his property whose branches he’d slept in as a boy. Rey is resplendent, and she’s smiling at him as if he had lit the stars for her. Her hazel eyes bore into his own, and he knows it’s inappropriate to openly gawk at a Jedi Commander in the middle of your own promotion ceremony, but he’s not quite broken his habit of bending the rules.

 _They would all be proud of you._ It feels different from the thoughts Kylo Ren had placed in his head, as she didn’t place the words in there at all. He doesn’t even hear her voice say them, actually. But he feels them all the same. _I am so proud of you. You earned this._

The warmth in his chest becomes almost unbearable. He doesn’t even notice the end of the General’s speech (and he thanks the lucky stars that Snap’s obsessed with recording every detail of their lives that he deems “memorable,” so he can watch the ceremony later). As the gathered officers salute him, he manages a smart salute back.

Her official job over, Leia shifts back into her regular demeanor. She lifts her arms out and Poe steps into them, tightly embracing her. He’s a head taller than she is now, which plays with his mind as he remembers how _big_ she’d seemed when he was a kid. Even now that he dwarfs her, he can’t help but feel as though he’s the one being protected as her still-strong arms encircle him.

“Congratulations, Colonel Dameron.” Her voice is wet, but he can’t see her face to confirm the presence of tears.

“Thank you, General.” He says into her shoulder. Leia sighs, sounding somehow guilty.

“Don’t thank me yet, Poe. Wait ‘til you get your orders.”

***

Finn and Rose are kissing passionately in the hangar bay. Normally, Poe would give them grief for such a public display, but as he and Finn are about to ship out on a two-man mission to the Outer Rim for the next seven weeks, he’ll let it slide.

As a Naval officer, he’s there to pilot their ship and assist Finn in their quest to map and evaluate the planets of great interest and low value to the First Order—planets that are at a high risk for weapon testing. Nasty rumors have sprung up across the galaxy, into the ears of Organa's spies, of weapons that work slightly slower than  _Starkiller,_ but are no less catastrophic.

So, it’s the day of their departure, and they’re in the hangar bay. Finn and Rose are kissing as if they’ll never see each other again. BB-8 is running circles around them, thrilled to be going on the trip, but [wouldn’t Rey, Status: Hero-and-Savior like to come with us? She’s a pilot!]

Rey is standing nervously next to a large tarp that covers the shape of their ship. And Poe?

Poe’s crossing his fingers that it isn’t a hunk of junk. He loves Rey’s enthusiasm for her pet projects, but he’s a little worried about speed and safety as he goes on this potentially dangerous mission with no back-up.

They both look over at the couple, who are still locked in their own personal bubble, and Rey laughs, anxiously. “Well, I guess you’re the one actually flying this thing. Might as well show you.” Poe walks to stand close by her side. She focuses, and the cloth lifts away to reveal a glorious T-65, sleek and powerful. Poe hasn’t had his own X-wing since Black-One went down in the attack on _Raddus._ He’s definitely feeling emotional, looking up at this beauty.

“It’s a tandem X-Wing,” Rey explains, her smile a ghost of its usual brilliance. Poe can’t seem to find the words for the appreciation he feels, completely awestruck that she re-built this, that she did this for him.

“There are two seats, seven engines,” she says, running her hand along the X-Wing. “And I added some stealth panels that I found on an salvaged Silencer. With the mods I made, they’ll be able to reflect most trackers’ signals, convincing them that you don’t exist. And I’ve adjusted the frequency of your radio so that it matches the newer models of the TIE-fighters. If you flip the orange switch near the comms, you’ll convince any and all ships that lock onto you that you’re First Order.”

“Rey,” he says, tugging at her elbow as she talks swiftly and nervously, avoiding his eyes.

She jerks her arm away from him and forges on, determinedly staring up at the tandem-X-Wing. “BB helped me program a series of current call-signs and code words to provide to the First Order should they make contact with you. And I ran a modulator so that BB can sound more like their own astromechs when he’s up in the X-wing—they won’t be able to tell the difference if they hear him.”

“Rey—” he tries again, but they’re interrupted by the approach of Finn and Rose, who’ve finally stopped kissing.

“Told you he’d like it!” Rose cries, squeezing Rey on the arm. Of course Poe liked it, but what he wants to say is that he’s really more interested in the engineer.

Before he can open his mouth and act like a fool, Finn asks, “Ready, Colonel?” a broad smile on his face. His blaster is on his hip, as well as a quicksilver baton. His leather jacket matches Poe’s.

Poe looks back at Rey, wishing that she’d acknowledge him.

Rey still won’t look at him, so Poe turns to address the couple properly, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good luck!” Rose gives him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, stepping back to Finn.

“Guess this is goodbye,” Poe says, trying not to train too much attention on Rey, trying not to lose his cool. _Just look at me,_ he begs her, reaching out to her tentatively, the way they’ve practiced during meditation. Her shoulders shake, and he can feel the internal conflict, nothing else, crossing from her into him.   

“It’s a beautiful bird, Rey,” Finn says. “If I’m lucky enough, Poe might let me drive her for a second.”

Poe grins at him, and slaps him on the shoulder. “Not gonna happen, buddy.”

“You should name her,” Rose says from where she’s tucked under Finn’s arm.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Poe doesn’t even have to think. He answers Rose, but looks at Rey. “Her name’s _Sunshine_.”

Rey doesn’t smile. When she turns around, she’s looking at her feet instead of his face, and barely checks to see where she’s going as she lurches forward and wraps her thin arms around Poe’s neck.

“Don’t die, you nerf-herder,” she commands. Poe’s thrown off-balance and gets his arms around her waist just in time for her to pull away.

He watches her run from the hangar, arm wiping at her face.

“What was that about?” Poe asks, worried that he knows the answer. He should have done something, should have reacted faster; but, in the months following Crait he’s been drilling it into himself to _think things through_ before he does them, which has made him blessedly less impulsive, more fit for command. Conversely, he worries that it may have allowed him to let an important moment pass by.

Finn shrugs. “Beats me.” 

In less than three seconds, Rose has shocked them both with the mecha-prod.

“ _Hey_!”

***

The bio-weapons are worse than any of them had feared. He and Finn track their use across several Outer Rim planets.

BB-8 becomes increasingly quiet as time wears on.

They take holo-reels of the broken bodies—some of them children, all of them innocent—their lungs turned to sludge on the ground below them in village after village on backwater, unarmed planets. The work is absolutely horrifying, more fodder for the nightmares that have returned intensely in the weeks after he left Rey in the hangar.

The nightmares take on a monotonous, monstrous quality.

Dead mother. Dead squadron. Dead children. 

And always, at the end, before he wakes up screaming—dead Rey. He never gets to her on time, feet never moving fast enough. Snoke succeeds in breaking her body in half, or Kylo Ren always strikes her down, wearing his best friend’s face. One more death on Poe Dameron’s hands.

He wishes he had been born with a higher Force-Sensitivity, had worked harder on the Bond, had been better at communicating across it, had _opened up more_ to her. Then, he’d have a way to check on her. Even to see her sleeping, just for a second. Even just to see her breathing, to confirm that she’s still alive, that there’s something still good, something still worth fighting for, in this kriffing, blasted galaxy.

The weeks trudge by, and the lines on Finn’s forehead grow more pronounced. Neither of them are sleeping well. Neither of them are talking about it.

On an unnamed, forested planet, not three days before their mission is set to end, a complication arises.

The First Order is still there when they arrive. The mods Rey made on _Sunshine_ ensure they get to the surface safely. Poe parks and conceals their ship several klicks west of the large transport ship. He reluctantly leaves BB-8 behind, in forced-slumber mode, as it doesn’t exactly do ‘stealth’ very well.

As he and Finn trek through the forest as quietly as they can, they silently signal to separate. The men go in opposite directions, wanting to get different eyes on the situation.

He hasn’t been gone from Finn’s side for more than fifteen minutes when Poe’s struck by a sickening feeling. He feels something cold ripple through his chest, and his head begins pounding with a phantom, paralyzing pain that he’s felt once before.

Kylo Ren is on this planet.

Poe creeps through the trees to the edge of a clearing. The Stormtroopers are wearing modified masks (“they filter gas, now,” Finn had told him, glum at the prospect of one less exploitable weakness), and sure enough, in their midst stands the Supreme Leader himself.

The pilot walks forward as much as he can, drawn towards the large shadow of a man, who is standing amidst the ruins of a village that had once been full of life.

“Who the hell sanctioned this?” Kylo's voice comes out tinny, and wrong, and _dangerous_ through the mask, just as it had when Ren had interrogated him months ago. Confusion courses through Poe. If the Supreme Leader wasn’t clearing these bio-tests, who was?

If Stormtroopers could look frightened, these guys would, Poe thinks. “This is _not_ what I wanted,” Kylo screams, not needing an answer. “This cannot be the First Order's legacy!”

Poe’s head hurts. It really, really hurts, beyond the residual headache left behind by the memory of Kylo’s torture.

He realizes his mistake, maybe two minutes too late.

The area hasn’t been de-contaminated. He’s been exposed to the gas.

***

Somehow, Poe managed to get away from the confrontation at the village unseen and unheard (it may have had something to do with the sheer decibel at which Kylo Ren was screaming at the troopers).

His heart is pounding, and he tastes bile in his throat. His skin is on fire. He’s burning from the inside out. Luckily he managed to activate his homing signal the second he realized what had happened, and Finn finds him within ten minutes.

Pain dazzles along his spine, his chest, into his legs.

Poe begs for water, for mercy, for death, and lastly, for Rey. Oh kriff, he’ll never see her again. He’ll never tell her.

Rey.

He must have screamed her name a little too loud, because Finn, frantically trying to keep them safe and unnoticed in the underbrush, groans, and slaps a hand over Poe’s mouth.

Through the screeching, blinding pain that is suddenly Poe’s singular reality, he can hear his friend shushing him, and then apologizing. Finn raises his blaster, there’s a jet of red light, and Poe’s world fades to black.

***

Finn does not tell him how they got aboard _Sunshine._ He says nothing of the exhausting, back-straining labor it must have taken to drag Poe’s heavier frame back to the ship. He doesn’t comment on the disgusting excretions that had assuredly poured from Poe as he fought himself free from the clutches of death.

But, he does tell him that he’s been unconscious for the better part of two days. And that he must have gotten a lesser dose of the bio-weapon, which had had time to dissipate into the atmosphere and lose some of its potency.

BB-8 beeps anxiously at his side, urging him to drink water.

Poe drinks, slowly at first, and then desperately, from a water canteen. He winces at the metallic taste that grits into his mouth.

“Not too fast,” Finn cautions. “Or you’ll be wearing that water.”

Poe doesn’t listen, and sure enough, thirty seconds later, he’s vomiting the water back up. Between the vomiting and the stun-wound left behind by Finn’s blaster, he feels like bantha-droppings.

“Try again,” his ever-patient friend laughs. “We got all day.” Beebee coos his assent.

They do end up taking the day to rest. Poe stares out at the greenery from inside the X-Wing, the seat pulled back so he can stretch his legs out on the dash. Around noon,  he finds the courage to ask Finn, “Do you remember what I said? While I was out of it?”

The look on Finn’s face tells him that he remembers every word.  Poe grunts in acknowledgment and takes small sip of water with some electrolyte powder mixed in.

“I won’t tell her,” Finn says. “I know she’s my best friend, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thanks, Finn.”

“ _You_ should tell her though.”

“I know.” Finn’s arched eyebrow tells him that his answer isn’t quite good enough. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”

***

The small MedScanner Rey had left in the cargo hold of the X-Wing announces Poe to be in perfect health, if a bit dehydrated, twelve hours after he regains consciousness.

Still, he points at the pilot seat, exhausted, and looks at Finn. “You earned it, buddy. Fly us home.” The triumphant grin on Finn’s face is reward in and of itself.

While they rocket through Hyperspace, Poe uses the flight home to rest and recover more. He ties the top of his uniform around his waist to relieve some of his extra body heat, as he tries to breathe deeply like Rey had shown him.

He feels more like his normal self as they drop out of lightspeed and make the descent into atmo.

“I can park it,” he says.

“Oh thank God,” Finn moans, a flop sweat starting to dampen around his brow. “I mean, I could definitely get us back on the surface. Just probably in, like, five pieces.”

Poe laughs once, ribs still aching. They’ve switched their radio frequency back over to the Resistance-approved coding, and Finn reads off their call-sign and approach code to Ground Control as Poe levels the X-Wing towards the hangar entrance, a gaping hole in the side of a hill that could be mistaken for a natural entrance to a cave. 

Their wheels touch down, finally, and the soldiers look at each other tiredly. Finn looks like he’s aged ten years, and Poe feels the same way. They both need a ‘fresher, a hot meal, and thirty hours of sleep. But they have debriefing to get through before any of those things can come true.

“We did it, buddy.” Poe tries to sound optimistic for his fellow soldier, his brother-in-arms, his wonderful friend who’d saved his life so many times on the mission. He knows he fails in the forced optimism, but Finn smiles at him, warm and kind, all the same. Finn is an impossibility for which Poe will never stop being grateful.

“Yeah. Now, I got a date with a mechanic.” Finn stands up and springs from the cockpit, jumping down from the platform to embrace Rose, who’d clearly been waiting since the announcement of their arrival.

A large crowd has gathered, cheering for them. Cheering for what, Poe doesn’t know. Finn’s a hero, for sure. But what did Poe do? Flew a ship and took some pictures and failed to save a single person. He feels dirty beyond measure, beyond what a ‘fresher could fix, the blood and viscera beating behind his eyes, threatening to drown him as he manages to get upright, standing, and tiredly climbing down from the X-Wing.

He smiles at Finn’s back. His friend has an arm around Rose, the couple facing the crowd, and BB-8 is zooming around their legs, cheerfully telling everyone of its friends’ bravery.

The cheering doesn’t stop so much as falter when it opens up in the middle, a part forming between the crush of bodies. Poe tries to remember how to breathe as Rey comes through the crowd.

She says absolutely nothing, everything she needs to say burning on her face as she sprints towards him, not even looking at Finn, or Beebee, or anyone else, just him. The world narrows down to a pair of hazel eyes on a small, beautiful girl who skips the last five feet and _jumps_ into Poe. It’s due to her stature that he can lift her at all, tired and weakened as he is. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t exist in this moment as fully as he can.

He spins her around in his arms, laughing, laughing full and carefree for the first time in a month, feeling something click into place in his chest. He begins to remember what it feels like to be _whole_ , to be okay. What it feels like to be with Rey.

What it feels like to be home.

 

 

 


	11. Conflicted Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kylo Ren Pain Train is back at the station
> 
> This takes place at the same time as Chapter 10 (the last chapter) with a brief Rey POV (she'll have a lot more POV coming up ) and about 6.5 pages of pure Kylo/Ben.

Poe and Finn have been gone for two weeks when General Organa asks her if she wants to go on a solo mission to Ilum, where past generations of Jedi have harvested Kyber crystals and formed their lightsabers. Since Crait and the destruction of Anakin's weapon, Rey's been borrowing the forest-green blade Leia had made with Luke.

“I realized I was pregnant with Ben, and that I didn’t want to be a Jedi. Luke was kind enough to let me keep it, the old softie,” Leia had explained to her.

“You were pregnant, and he wasn’t mad at you for breaking the Jedi vow of celibacy?” Rey hadn’t wanted to pry, but she had wanted to know how Luke felt about romantic attachments.

Leia laughed. “He definitely knew I was breaking that vow. Han and I were married." Rey had laughed with her. "And, considering how our father tore apart the galaxy after a series of mistakes that could have been avoided had he told someone about his secret wife, yes, Luke decided it was a stupid rule. He said there was nothing wrong with love, as pure, selfless love was the best weapon the Light could possess.” Rey hated how happy that knowledge had made her.

With Leia’s blessing, she hops in Knight One with enough rations to last four weeks, and flies straight to Ilum, excited to build her own lightsaber.

Rey’s built so many incredible, magical things in her life from spare parts. How hard could this be?

 

**

 

Rey has been building her lightsaber for three weeks.

She’s clearly too cold to focus, or not patient enough, because Kylo sees her throw Kyber crystals, kick wrenches, and bang her fists on the cave wall frequently over those three weeks.

He sees it because the Force has connected them every other night since she arrived on the Jedi-mine planet.

She had screamed in terror, and then in anger, the first time he appeared, and they had separated fairly quickly.

Rey became increasingly accepting of his presence over the last few visits. They’ve shared conversations that could best be described as ‘civil’ (they didn’t end with her throwing something at his head, screaming, so he’ll take that as a victory), and she even offered him tea a week ago.

Mostly, she (unknowingly) tightens the grip she has on what’s left of Kylo’s heart. And works on her lightsaber.

That’s what she’s doing as he appears to her on a cold Centaxday some months after she’d turned from him on _The Supremacy,_ breaking his heart and setting them down their current diverged paths.

 “I could help you with that, you know.” He doesn’t mean to startle her. It’s irritating how she jumps out of her skin at the sound of his voice.

“I’m not going to build a lightsaber designed by a Sith!” She snaps, recovering slightly.

“Not a Sith.” Rey ignores the distinction, returning to tinkering with her half-formed lightsaber hilt. “And I really do want to help.”

“Very likely.” The sarcasm is withering, and instead of infuriating Kylo, it awakens something in him that he hasn’t felt in years. He wants to see this through, not throw in the towel like an angry child. She’s baffling, confusing, challenging. There’s nothing in the galaxy, he’s sure, that would give him more pleasure than engaging with her in a battle made of words and not weapons.

But first, he needs to convince her of his reliability.

“Rey, I don’t want you to get upset if I tell you something. Can I tell you?”

She looks at him warily. “Will it be the truth?”

Of all the things she could be worried about, and she’s worried about his _honesty._ Kylo’s been nothing but honest his whole life. Diplomatic white lies were his mother’s game. He shoots from the hip, just like his father (he fights the ghost of Han Solo back, trying to stay calm so he can be here with her a little longer, bask in her warmth a few moments more).

“Yes, scavenger.”

Rey doesn’t even look annoyed at the nickname. She puts down her tools and comes to lean on the wall next to him. “What, then?” She tries to look disinterested, but he can feel her curiosity coiling through the Bond.

“Think about how long you’ve been here.”

“About three weeks?” She asks, nose twitching as she counts the days.

“Right, and how many days have I been here?”

“Probably…half of them.”

“And I knew you were here to make a lightsaber?”

“Yes.” Her patience is clearly running out. Even he had more fortitude during his training as a Jedi, and he turned to the Dark Side, for Forcessake. “Out with it, Solo.”

He winces at the use of his last name. His father’s name. But he gives in: “Rey, I built my lightsaber on this planet, fifteen years ago.”

Rey gives him a weird look, eyeing the weapon at his hip.

Kylo shakes his head. “My _Jedi_ lightsaber.”

She looks confused a minute before, and then tenses, horrified. He feels the terror sinking into her, her soul vibrating like a cornered animal.

“You know where I am?” She asks, dazed and frightened.

“Yes.” He plows forward, waiting for her to react even more negatively. “I’ve known since the moment you got here.” She’s physically shaking now, eyeing the exit, probably calculating how long it would have taken him to reach her.

“I’m still on _Vader II.”_ He tells her in what he hopes is a placating tone. “I have told no one of your location. Go on, look. See that it’s the truth.” He reaches his hand out to her.

Rey tentatively takes it (her touch every bit as _warm_ and incredible as he remembers, the sensation seared across each of his nerve endings), and he nods at her, telling her again that it’s alright. She edges into his mind, and he breathes through his nose at the gentle search.

Never has anybody treated him with such care. He can feel her Light brushing up against his darkest thoughts, stirring infinite positive feelings to life inside the recesses of his mind. Ben loves it. Kylo fears it.

Seemingly satisfied with what she’s seen, she pulls out as carefully as she had entered. “You’re telling the truth,” she admits, begrudgingly.

“So, let me help you,” he suggests, cringing at how earnest he sounds. Rey pulls her hand from his. Kylo reels at the loss of contact, and fights the urge to snatch her hand back, to clutch it to him and not let her go, to not let her leave him like everyone else has.

“What’s in it for you?”

 _A worthy opponent,_ Kylo thinks.

“I need something to pass the time,” he says, lamely. And, he knows that part of him is trying to steal her away from him, but gods, the sex-legend Poe Dameron would be so embarrassed if he knew how bad Ben Solo was at talking to girls.

“Got a lot of time to be bored, do you?” She quirks an eyebrow at him, looking so haughty that Hux himself would be proud.

“Yeah, you know,” He says, leaning back against the cave wall, arms crossed over his chest. He tosses his hair out of his face, pleased to see her eyes follow the movement. “Turns out genocidal bureaucracies actually run themselves.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially, and is vaguely satisfied when Rey leans in to listen. “And Vader’s instruction manual is really helpful.”

“Really?” She asks, eyes wide. It’s charming that she believed his lie so quickly. Kylo’s entirely out of practice with this whole “nonchalant, playful teasing” thing.

“Yep. It’s very short. Step One; Issue Command. Step Two: Force-Choke anyone who doesn’t listen, especially ginger assholes.”

Rey looks shocked for a second and then she _laughs._ She laughs, clapping her hands over her mouth, eyes slightly horrified, but she laughs all the same. “Oh, that really isn’t funny!” she cries between giggles. “That really shouldn’t be funny!”

Kylo laughs too, a creak of a laugh, rusted from disuse. The Jedi looks surprised to hear him laughing, but it helps to increase her own laughter. His stomach hurts after a few minutes.

Later, when he’s showing her how to guide the pieces of the hilt together ( _you need a teacher_ ), Rey lets him stand beside her, shoulders brushing, and doesn’t flinch once.

Kylo decides he’ll do anything she wants if he can hear her laugh again.

***

Two weeks later, the Captain of the squad nervously hands him a vial of the weapon, and the antidote, when ordered. Kylo can feel their surprise when he doesn’t raise his lightsaber to strike a random trooper down. _Maybe I’m growing,_ he thinks. _Maybe the scavenger will destroy Kylo Ren after all._

They depart from the village. He knows the smell of the bodies will never leave his nose.

While he walks, Kylo is haunted by the memory of dying Younglings, slain friends and classmates. The seeds of the First Order had been sown that night at Luke’s temple on Devaron. Ben Solo hadn’t lifted a finger to hurt any of them, just like Kylo Ren had not assisted in, or even known about, the murder of these people today.

It doesn’t erase an ounce of the crushing guilt and responsibility he feels.

How has it come to this?

As they walk, he’s startled when he hears _them_ in the underbrush.

Commander Poe Dameron and FN-2187, the traitor to the First Order.

The Stormtrooper garrison he’s currently walking behind seem to have no idea that two of the most significant members of the Resistance are within a hundred yards of their path.

He reaches out towards them, and reads their signatures. FN-2187 is pulsing with nervous energy, poised ready to fight.

And Poe.

Oh, fuck. Poe. The pilot had somehow been caught in the downdraft from the village. His lungs are failing. There is no time to waste.

Kylo Ren has no idea how many civilians have died as a result of the First Order’s irresponsible, catastrophic testing (there will be a _reckoning,_ he thinks grimly), but he can fix this. He can save this one person.

“You will return to the ship. You will not tell anyone that I did not follow you directly.”

The entire garrison repeats his order, blandly, the Force sinking into their wills and bending them. Kylo watches the troopers march away, as he remains frozen on the path. When he’s sure they’re out of sight, he turns on his heel and walks with purpose to where he knows the two Resistance fighters are hidden.

FN-2187 is waiting, blaster poised and steady, aimed at Kylo’s chest. In his arms, Poe struggles to breathe. He's unconscious, but not from the virus. Kylo rips his helmet off.

“Did you stun him?” he asks, incredulously.

“What? That’s what you’re worried about?” The blaster gets a little closer to Kylo’s chest.

Kylo waves an impatient hand at him. “He doesn’t have much time,” he barks. “Poe Dameron is dying.”

“You think I don’t know that?” FN-2187 shoots back. The blaster wavers slightly. “The First Order did this. We’ve been following your mess for weeks. I know exactly what happens to people when they’re exposed to this shit.” His voice is strong, and if Kylo wasn’t incredibly adroit at reading people’s emotions, he would believe that this boy wasn’t terrified out of his mind.

“I didn’t…” No. The Supreme Leader does not need to explain himself to a traitorous Stormtrooper. The look in FN-2187’s eyes is too similar to the one he’d seen back on _Starkiller,_ when he’d raised Kylo’s birthright, his grandfather’s lightsaber, against him. He’s made his mind up about Kylo Ren, and Kylo does not have the time or the desire to change it. FN-2187 probably understands that there is no statistical chance of him beating Kylo Ren in a fight, but here he is, blocking his friend’s body with his own, blaster raised, jaw set, eyes blazing.

 _The kid’s got spunk_. His brain offers the comment in a voice too close to Han’s.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Kylo snaps, instead of explaining. “What matters is that I can help him.” He holds out the antidote, and pops the cap off of the tube. An ultra-thin syringe emerges with a faint hiss, a drop of green-gold liquid at the tip.

“Why would you help him?” The suspicion is understandable, but frustrating. They have precious minutes before the lungs collapse and Poe drowns in fluid, drowns from the inside.

“He’s going to die either way, FN-2187. Either he will die in a few minutes, or whatever I’m trying to give him will kill him right now. Choose.” He waits for an answer, and decides that, to hell with politeness, he’s just going to compel this idiot through the Force to _let him help his friend,_ when the traitor breathes through his nose loudly, like an irritated bantha.

“Fine.” He says. “Do it. And my name’s Finn, not FN-2187.”

“Okay, Finn,” Kylo tries his hardest to hide his sarcasm, kneeling down at Poe’s side. In a show of good faith, he doesn’t even knock the blaster out of “Finn’s” hands as he readies the syringe at Poe’s neck.

The needle goes into the largest vein, and after the entire dose has been administered, Kylo sits back on his heels. The oddly-matched pair wait with bated breath for Poe to respond.

“He named me,” Finn mutters. Ben Solo remembers the kindness of Poe Dameron, his willingness to love and help every living thing. The memory hurts less than usual.

“It’s a good name,” Ben whispers through Kylo’s mouth. Finn looks surprised to know that the Supreme Leader is capable of positive comments. This is spiraling out of control, fast. Kylo needs to do damage control. So.

“Don’t tell her,” Kylo commands. Finn looks at him, clearly not comprehending.

“Don’t tell who?” The boy must think he means his mother, the General.

“The scavenger. There will be no word of this to the scavenger, to anyone.”

 “Why not?” There is no suspicion in Finn’s voice, only curiosity.

 _There is no ignorance, only knowledge,_ whispers the ghost of Luke.

And that’s when he sees it, written clear on the soldier’s face. The bug in the system, the source of the stormtrooper’s defection, the absurd emotion that had caused years of conditioning to fail. _Empathy._ Even in the face of his greatest enemy, in the face of the man who had caused so much suffering for his friends, his loved ones—Finn, formerly FN-2187, formerly a traitor, wants to understand how Kylo Ren could have saved a man’s life. He wants to understand, to know how it feels to be a disgraced ex-Jedi, a failing Supreme Leader.

“Because she’ll think I did it for her,” he says, simply.  In reality, his motivation is a little more complicated.

She can’t think he saved this man for her, because he doesn’t want her to face him on uneven ground. He doesn’t want their next battle, because there will be one, to be further marked by Rey’s sympathy, her belief that Ben Solo could be saved. He doesn’t want to look into her eyes and see compassion, and the worst of all useless emotions, _hope._ When the time comes, and its her saber against his, he doesn’t want her to hesitate to strike him down. Because Kylo Ren will not hesitate, and he does not want to destroy the last good thing in the galaxy without an extreme amount of effort. When he kills her, he will kill himself, and he does not want that to be for nothing.

He did not do this for Rey the scavenger, as much as he cares for her. So, she cannot be allowed to forge what happened here into her own weakness.

Poe’s breathing has lost its terrifying, gasping quality, and color is returning to his face. Kylo snatches his helmet off the ground and readies himself to replace it, to hide his face and return to his ship, and wreak hell upon whoever gave the order for the massacre that took place.

“Who did you do it for, then?”

 _Curiosity killed the Tooka_. His mother’s voice. It’s a day of ghosts.

Kylo has no idea why he answers, and answers honestly at that.

“For a boy I killed,” he starts, swallowing painfully. “A boy I killed a long time ago loved Poe Dameron. I did it for him.”

He does not wait for a response, and flees through the forest.

***

Against his better judgment, Kylo reaches out to Rey the moment he’s alone.

Their Bond had been strengthened by their days spent together on Ilum, and as a result, he can see her surroundings. She mentioned sleeping in a closet (strange, adorable girl), but she’s clearly in an officer’s quarters.

Looking around at the various posters and the vast collection of holonovels, an uncomfortable feeling behind his navel tells him that this is Poe Dameron’s room.

Rey’s curled up on his bed, arms wrapped around a pillow, crying into the sheets.  


“Rey,” Ben murmurs. Or is it Kylo? The compassion is growing ever-present where the girl is concerned, the edges of Ben Solo and Kylo Ren bleeding together, daily. She looks up, sees him standing above her, and breaks into renewed sobs.

“I felt him dying,” she weeps. “Oh, Ben.”

“He’ll be okay,” he promises, stupidly. Oh, the Maker is punishing him. Kylo never could have imagined a punishment this fitting, this exquisite, for his crimes. He is comforting the woman he loves while she cries over another. And he has no wish, no desire to do anything else but comfort her. “He’ll be okay, sweet one.”

She reaches out for him, but he leaves before she can touch him. He isn’t that strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next three chapters are already written, oops. I'll try to edit and release them in normal intervals, instead of my current "write until you think it's fine and then publish it in a panic" plan.
> 
> I could honesty extend the slow burn between Rey/Poe a little longer, but my current plan is to bring it to an end soon
> 
> ...if that’s something you all would be into?


	12. Come Back to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before she leaves, he needs her to make a promise. 
> 
> (Poe says goodbye to Rey before her first official flight as a member of the Resistance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three updates in less than 24 hours because I have no impulse control
> 
> (this is shorter than the last few because I've removed ~half of what was originally included. It's now part of Chapter 13)

Poe Dameron has been a soldier for over a decade now. He’s seen a thousand fights, been in almost as many, to the point where the violence has blurred into background noise. And here he is in the flight hangar, seven months after the Battle on Crait, getting ready for their initial strike in the renewed battle against the First Order.

He won’t be in the air today, but Rey will. And his stomach is in knots.

Rey’s back is to him as she makes final checks on her ship, examining something on the gear rack under the cockpit. The siren is still wailing in the distance, a klaxon demanding their presence in different places; hers in her modified X-Wing, and his in Central Command to direct the newly formed Gold squadron, covering for the General as she’s coming off three back to back shifts. It’ll be a little weird to be on the ground as a Navy man, but he’ll do his best to prove he earned his rank of Colonel.  

She looks powerful in her borrowed flightsuit, but at the same time tiny and vulnerable, the suit cinched around her small waist and a little too loose in the shoulders. The conflicting emotions—of pride, of protectiveness, of worry and confidence and wonder and something else Poe knows is too fragile to voice aloud just yet—pound against him, forcing him to action.

“Rey,” he says, as a warning. She makes to turn around, but he stops her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He needs to say something, _anything_ to her, something that will make her listen, but he’s too much a coward to say it to her face. Suddenly very still, Rey’s body language screams confusion, but her hands float down off the gear rack to rest on his larger, much more calloused ones.

Poe’s been taking risks since he figured out how to haul himself off the ground as a baby, and now’s good a time as any. Taking the featherlight strokes she’s trailing down his wrist and fingers as a good sign, he presses his body closer to hers, and tilts his head down to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

She stiffens further, but doesn’t pull away, and Poe takes a deep breath through his nose. Grease, salt, sand, and something flowery. The smell of all things good and pure and _Rey_. Tentatively, her right hand comes up to rest in his hair, and she pulls her fingers through his messy curls. It feels experimental, and so _kriffing_ good that Poe’s breath stutters. He clings tighter to her, and feels his heart stutter in his chest as she relaxes, _melts,_ into him, tilting her head further to the side to grant him access to more of her skin.

She’s an amazing fighter, and an amazing pilot. Rationally, he knows this, respects this. But he can’t account for the First Order lunatics. Hells, he almost died at their hands barely two months ago. And he knows all too well how quickly things go to shit in space, how quickly a battlefront can turn into a nightmare. Poe’s lost too many friends in battles like this, under his orders. He can’t lose her too.

Poe takes another deep breath, burying himself further into her neck and sweet-smelling hair. “Come back to me,” he whispers. The hangar is a buzzing hive of activity, but they may as well be in a bubble under the lake of Naboo. Short of another explosion like the one on _The Raddus,_ nothing’s going to stop him from doing this.

The X-Wings need to take off immediately. Poe’s typically a consummate professional, but he’ll take these thirty seconds because it just may be the last chance he has, and _no_ he can’t think that right now, not when he needs to send Rey into the sky, not when he needs to be strong for the new, untested squadron.

So he lets himself exist, just for this moment, when it’s just him and Rey, and appreciates every heartbeat.

“Come back to me,” he says again, loud, closer to her ear, and her fingers pause in his hair. “I know you think you need to be a hero, but, Force, come back to me. I don’t care how. Just come back.”

Poe’s so close to her throat that he can feel her breath catch more than he can hear it, and he knows she may not be able to answer him, but he presses forward, arms shifting so he can now cover her left hand with his own, his right pulling her hips in, tightening his hold on her. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.” He demands directly into her ear, his ragged voice alien to himself, hovering near her to the point where he can feel the heat of his breath reflecting off her skin.

Rey nods, once or twice slowly, and then furiously, her fingers digging into his scalp so hard he wants to groan. “Yes,” she gasps, “I promise.”

“Good,” he huffs a nervous laugh, hands skating over her arm, her waist. Poe’s being selfish—he’s the one that almost died out in the Outer Rim—but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s tired of being separated from her. He wants to give in to his every instinct, to hold her tight, to show her how much she means to him. He wants to never let her go. For him to do that, she needs to come back. He needs her to keep this promise.

“Here’s what you need to do now. You need to get in this X-Wing. You need to forget everything but this mission. Everything but this mission and that promise. Got it?”

She nods, again, firmly.

“Say it,” he says, the greedy monster in his chest demanding this reassurance. “Please.”

“I understand,” Rey whispers, adding a quiet “Colonel.” Kriff, she’s going to be the death of him.

He holds her a beat longer and then releases her abruptly. Before walking away, he trails one hands down the back of her neck, and reaches down to the floor to grab what he meant to give her when he walked over to the X-Wing.

He places his old flight helmet on her head. “Godspeed, Rebel,” he says.

Poe pivots and walks as quickly as he can out of the hangar. He doesn’t turn around to see her climb into the cockpit. He doesn’t wait for her ship to carry her outside and up into the atmosphere so she can make the jump. He reaches Central, and he stations himself at the General’s position at the Command station, arms clasped behind his back and jaw locked as he watches the beginning of the battle from the ground.

Five minutes later, when Snap comes jogging in, he sees Poe standing, watching the battle map with terrifying focus. Snap gives him a concerned look, and when he asks, “How are you doing, Dameron,” Poe’s back straightens into a straight, rigid line.

A terse “Full report, Commander,” is Poe’s only response.

It’s going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned for this chapter to have the above scene and /then/ the scene of Rey up in the X-wing, fighting, but there's some angst in there, and I figured it's Wednesday and maybe you guys want something soft (was this soft? I don't even know). 
> 
>  
> 
> Also yes, they didn't kiss yet, but very soon they will 
> 
> (Hopefully this chapter wasn't ridiculous I wrote it in like fifteen minutes after I had an ~idea~! and maybe it's garbage idk but who cares b/c I'm garbage)
> 
> thanks for reading, as usual


	13. One Hell of a Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey experiences her first space battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd try to have self control but it's been an unexpectedly rough night and I'm sitting on my couch with my roommate eating Ben & Jerry's and watching Tangled and here we are--

Rey’s been in a firefight before, and she’s been in fights with far less weapons at her disposal. But there’s nothing that could have prepared her for the full-on chaos awaiting as she drops out of lightspeed and into the battlefield.

“Welcome to the fun, Jedi!” shouts Tri’lin across the comms.

“Glad to be here,” Rey responds, swooping underneath the Gold Squadron and heading to the outskirts of the battle. She’s here on intel that Kylo Ren will make an appearance, flying his TIE-Silencer with this particular fleet as he maintains a disturbingly hands-on approach to the First Order’s domination. She’s under strict orders from Rebel Command to not engage until she’s got eyes on his bird, at which point she’s meant to distract him from helping the rest of his fleet.

“Ground control to Knight One, Ground Control to Knight One,” Commander Snap calls over her comms.

“Here, Snap,” says Rey, flicking her stabilizers as she pauses, for the time out of sight and thousands of yards below the action—or it above the action, or to the side? The lack of clear direction and the sheer _amount_ of space out here is still dizzying.

“Keep an eye out for Darth Bitch-Fit,” his voice crackles back. “And do us all a favor and avoid the action until then.”

“Wilco,” chirps Rey, eyeing the scene above her.

“I mean it, Rey. The Colonel here is gonna leave a permanent hole in the floor. Hasn’t moved since you all took off.”

Rey laughs at that, but her mirth is cut short as Poe’s brusque voice cuts across the line. “Stop fucking around and holding up the line, Snap. And keep your kriffing attention on your surroundings, Commander.”

Her hands freeze over the console, a seizing pain in her chest at Poe’s reprimand. She closes her eyes and she can sense him, thousands of miles away at the base. His energy, usually so soft and pleasant, feels more like a cornered animal, snarling and throbbing. Anxiety ripples through his Force signature, and she understands that he’s nervous, for her, for the battle, for the squadron. This battle is important for him. She can’t let her personal pride get in the way of supporting him and playing her part.

“Roger that, Colonel,” Rey responds. She doesn’t cut off their bond, lingering in the connection, which isn’t as strong as the one she shares with Kylo, but is still significant enough that she can sense him as if he were in the cockpit with her. Poe feels calmer, happy that she’s following orders for the moment. Rey tries to send a feeling of consolation back to him. Rey looks down at her sensors to make sure she’s still connected to the squadron and Ground Control, and then resumes flight, banking to the left as she does another distant lap of the battle, waiting for Ben.

The recent period of silence across their Bond has been off-putting, less welcome than she thought it would be.

Ben’s eyes had shone, softer than she thought possible, the night she was convinced Poe was dying. He had stayed with her briefly, comforting her. She thought Ben had moved to stroke her hair, and she reached for his wrist, hoping to pull him down into a hug. Instead, he’d made a noise like she had stabbed him, and disappeared. She hasn’t seen or heard from him since.

Her musing comes to a halt when she hears Snap over the comms. “Incoming TIEs, prepare to engage, Gold Squadron.” Rey perks up; this might be the fleet that Kylo’s supposed to be accompanying. She hates that she isn’t sure.

Suddenly there’s a swarm of TIE-fighters. Rey hasn’t seen anything like it since a flock of steelvultures descended upon a fellow scavenger who’d collapsed after risking their luck and staying out for days on end without portions or water. Planes are pouring out of the darkness of space, converging on the squadron.

Gold Two, flown by Kevra (a young Recruit from the same system as Rose) is right ahead of her. He engages with the First Order ships, but they keep coming. Fear runs through her, closing her throat and making her fingers tighten on the controls.

As the skirmish rages on, Rey wonders why the order hasn’t come for him to pull out. Kevra is barely 18 years old, too young to die out here afraid and alone. The rest of the squadron is involved with the firefight to the side and Kevra isn’t asking for help. Rey feels helpless as she watches the fight. Surely Ground Control can see that he’s surrounded.

She makes the decision, all too easily.

Gritting her teeth, she calls to her borrowed astromech to get ready and fires the engines on her X-Wing, in the direction of Kevra. “Gold Two, on your left,” she calls.

“Stand down, Knight One,” shouts Poe.

“Not a chance,” she snaps, barrel rolling over ten TIE fighters. She pulls out of the roll, punching it the second she finishes stabilizing, so that she zips towards the bulk of the TIE-fighters. Rey takes a deep breath in as she activates her targeting equipment.

“Commander!” Poe shouts from the console. “Stand down! That’s an order.”

One, two, three, four, _five_. Rey takes out a series of fighters on her exhalation. A moment later, she’s shut off comms to Ground Control to ignore the furious reprimand pouring out of Colonel Dameron.

“Hells! Now that’s a pilot!” crows Commander Prishnak, the leader of the Squadron. “And shut up, Dameron!” She can’t hear Poe (she can definitely feel how pissed he is) but she can only assume that he’s giving Prishnak a piece of his mind.

“Thanks for having my back, Rey,” she can hear the smile in Kevra’s voice.

Being in the air is second nature to Rey. She navigates around the enemy fighters expertly, firing only the shots necessary to knock them out of the field. The young Jedi Commander quickly loses track of just how many she’s taken down, and glories in the way it feels to be helpful.

The exhilaration and adrenaline coursing through her is better than any feeling she’s had in her short life. Almost any feeling. She recalls how Poe had embraced her on the hangar, the tightening in her belly and the heat of his breath on her neck. Maybe that’s why she’s distracted.

Maybe that’s why Kevra sees them coming before she does.

“Pull up, Rey!” he shouts. She’d been so focused on the TIE-fighters on Kevra’s tail that she didn’t see the three silencers coming up on her rear. There’s a terrible screeching noise of heat meeting metal and her ship tilts sideways violently.

“Knight One hit,” she calls into the comm, trying to recall all the evasive maneuvers Poe taught her in the last few months. Somewhere in the confusion, her helmet smacks into something and her vision goes funny.

She furiously pulls up on the controls, trying to correct the spin of her X-Wing. The droid behind her squeals in terror as it assesses the damage.

From thousands of miles away, she can feel Poe screaming.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls don't hate me, pls pls pls I will update tomorrow and remember I want these idiots to be happy as much as you do pls
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (also big shoutout to my roommate who puts up with me aggressively handing her my fanfiction and demanding for her to read it even though she definitely does enough reading at work all day she is an Angel)


	14. A Promise Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey returns from battle; Poe is waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to respond to all of your amazing comments in time! I told myself I'd publish this chapter by 3:00 p.m. today, so here it is. 
> 
> Hopefully some of your questions/anxieties will be addressed below ;)

Leia Organa dismisses him from his station an hour after sunrise. “Go,” she says, sending him off imperiously with her hand. “I’ll monitor the clean-up. I can at least do that.” When he doesn’t move right away, she rolls her eyes and gives him a _shove._ “Go, Dameron. Get your girl.” She laughs quietly, seeming to understand that he’s wrestling between the urge to bolt from the room and the urge to play it cool. He walks to the door, pausing as Leia calls out, “And congratulations on your first successful battle as Colonel.” Poe smiles and tosses a lazy salute over his shoulder.

Just like when he was a boy, he waits until he rounds the corner before he breaks into a jog, and then a sprint (He still doesn’t realize that Leia can sense the exact moment he picks up the pace).

A wave of conflicting emotions rips through Poe as he enters the hangar. He stands near the dock assigned to Rey as he waits, bouncing on his feet in exhausted impatience, and unzips the top of his uniform tying it around his hips.

Every X-Wing and fighter ship returned an hour ago, minus the one piloted by a particularly stubborn Jedi. The hit she’d taken ( _needlessly_ , his brain whispers, _if you’d only been a second faster pulling Kevra out of the way, Rey would have never jumped in_ ) had temporarily fried her ability to make the jump, as well as her comms. Her comms which she had _voluntarily shut off mid-flight_ after deeming Poe’s _very sensible commands_ too restrained to accomplish the mission in a manner she saw fit.

 _Knight One Hit_! echoes the memory of her voice, desperate and frightened, a ghost that’s sure to take its place among his nightmares. Their Bond is the only reason he has the memory, as their radio connection had been lost mid-battle before she’d taken the hit. Their Bond is also the reason he hadn't fully lost his mind when she was hit; it had felt like every one of the cells in his body were frozen when he saw the strike on her X-Wing from the computer. Her echoing, vast terror in the following minutes had set his teeth on edge, and he was reliably told that he had screamed an "incredibly creative" curse at the tech responsible for communications.

Every second of her panic is emblazoned on his mind, punishing and choking him at the same time it enrages him. 

He's stewing as he waits. Rey should be back soon having completed the repairs, per a report sent by her industrious droid—not BB-8, but still a winner in Poe’s book if she gets home in one piece.

A cracking sound cuts through the atmosphere as the modified, green X-Wing enters their vision. There’s a crowd forming to greet the hero of the battle, but as the ship swoops in, landing gear extended and smoke still trailing from the engine, Poe ignores the cheer building behind him as he settles on one of the emotions at war inside him. _Anger._ He’s definitely mad, and he’s definitely going to earn his reputation as a hard-ass commanding officer today. She’d _promised_ him that she’d make it back, promised she’d do her best to make it back.  _How could she do that? How could she risk her life like that? When she had **promised**?_

Kylo Ren hadn’t even made an appearance at the battle, their intel was wrong, which meant her presence was unnecessary. Which means the potential loss of her precious life was unnecessary.

He strides forward as the X-Wing finally parks in the dock, and waits at the edge of the platform, jaw working furiously.

The droid drops down first, a cheerful R2 unit that trills and does a happy shake before clunking over to talk to BB-8, who’s emerged from its irritated self-punishing slumber (it’d been enraged to learn that Poe wasn’t schedule to fly) to welcome the heroes home.

Poe’s anger only grows as he waits for the cockpit to open, thinking of the most effective way to demand that the pilot inside provide a _reason_ for her disobedience, a _reason_ for cutting comms and denying him potentially vital information _or a potentially vital goodbye_.

With a hiss, the pneumatics of the door release and the cockpit finally opens. Smoke emerges, and a loud cough accompanies it. Rey’s coughing in the pilot’s seat, tiny fist in front of her mouth while the other smacks the release on the restraints that cross over her chest and yanks his helmet off her head.

Her labored breathing awakens a concern in Poe that initially serves to stir his anger. As she rises, less fluidly as usual, and descends the ladder, he gets a good look at his Jedi.

Rey stands to the side of her X-Wing, red-eyed and still coughing lightly, a trickle of blood running from her forehead. She peeks around him briefly, at the crowd cheering in the background, raising a weak hand in acknowledgment and smiling feebly before looking straight at Poe.

She must have seen the fury in his face because her body flinches. After that, it takes approximately three seconds for his anger to fade as he sees the tears in her eyes. Rey takes a breath to say something to him, but it catches in her throat and comes out as a sob that sounds like a strangled version of his name. Her hands reach out for him and suddenly he’s there, catching her, running his hands over her hair, her shoulders, her hips, her arms, anywhere she’ll let him touch, searching for any damage, trying to find what’s causing her tears. His body pins hers up against the X-Wing, strong legs bearing her weight as her long, thin ones threaten to give out underneath her.

Distantly, Poe grows aware of the gathering of people still waiting to talk to Rey. The wings of the plane and his body have blocked most of her reaction from their sight, and he takes full advantage of that as he barks, loudly enough to be heard, “Dismissed!” in a tone that allows no argument.

As everyone trails away, he looks down at Rey, who’s still crying and shaking in his arms. “Poe,” she chokes out, as he tenderly smooths away her tears. “Poe.” That _thing_ that exists between them, the thing he’s been too terrified to name, hums quietly in the Bond, and Poe understands. They'll still need to talk later, but for now, he understands. He’s not out of control in his anger anymore, not when he understands that she never meant for it to go that far. He understands why she’d taken the risk, because he would have made the same decision. She never meant to leave him.

Caught up in the feeling of their connection, he leans down, still looking into her hazel eyes. He tilts his head to maintain their eye contact during his approach, and Rey’s breathing quiets as she gazes back up at him. She looks down at his mouth, briefly, and Poe’s heart sings in a way he didn’t realize was possible.

Rey’s alive. The Rebellion is alive. He didn’t fail them this time. He didn’t fail her.

He closes the distance between them to rest his forehead on hers, noses sliding against each other as his eyes shut. Rey laughs quietly, the edge of panic fading from it slowly.

“What?” he asks, his voice a whisper.

“Poe,” she says, “Poe, I almost died.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I know.”

“No, Poe,” she insists, louder this time. Her hands rise up, cupping his jaw, sliding up into his hair, and pulling, gently, but pulling all the same to get his attention. “ _You_ almost died, and then _I_ almost died _._ ” His eyes open at that, staring down at her while her warm, small hands run to the back of his hairline, pulling him closer.

Rey tilts her head to mirror his own, and softly presses her mouth against his.

It’s chaste, as kisses go, but the bond that connects them surges in pleasure. Poe’s so taken aback by the feeling that he’s too distracted to properly reciprocate. She parts from him with a quiet sigh. Her eyes are dazzling as they look into his, a private smile playing on her lips. Rey is as radiant as the morning sun over Yavin 4, her freckles glowing like micro constellations that he could spend the rest of his life mapping. And Poe, well, Poe feels like he’s been hit by a dreadnaught.

“That probably wasn’t very good, it was my first time,” she admits sheepishly, “I know practice makes perfect, but _kriff_ I spent way too much time up in the air thinking _what if I never kiss him? What if I die having never kissed him?”_ She continues to babble, nervously, but it’s her admission that’s frozen him fully. Her first kiss, and he could barely respond for surprise and happiness. Her first kiss was his, was _theirs_.

“And I know that you might be surprised, but…” she’s cut off as Poe remembers how to act in these situations, his thumb skimming the length of her jaw; one hand goes to cup the back of her head and the other comes to tilt her chin back.

“Rey,” he murmurs, “Sweetheart, _Sunshine_. You have no possible way to conceive just how long I’ve wanted this.” She isn’t trying to talk now, and it’s time for her eyes to close as he eliminates the distance between them.

He kisses her deeply, passionately, the way she deserves. His hands touch her chin, her jaw, one dipping low to stroke the length of her neck.

"I'm still mad at you," he manages to gasp, pausing from his impassioned exploration. Poe doesn't sound nearly as pissed as he'd wanted to.

"Talk later, kiss now," Rey murmurs, pulling him back in to resume their kiss.

Poe delights in the soft noise she makes into his mouth as his hand drifts over her collarbone. Her fingers seem irrevocably fused to his hair now, tangled in the curls as she holds him close.

They break away after several long, glorious moments to breathe, but their hands stay on the other, bodies still aligned like cosmic figures.

“I came back to you,” Rey says into the space between them. “I promise I’ll always come back. I will always be right here, with you, for as long as you want me.”

He nuzzles her jaw as she makes her vow, heart swelling with staggering emotion. She couldn’t possibly know the significance of such a promise, its structure eerily similar to one exchanged by Yavinese couples at binding ceremonies.

“My girl,” he says into the soft skin of her neck, kissing a line down and listening to the various hitches in her breath as he does so. The back of her head hits the X-Wing with a dull _thunk_. He laughs, but it sounds more like a groan as he cradles her head in his hand, hips surging forward into hers. “My sweet, sweet girl.” He punctuates each word with a kiss, settling on her collarbone, which proves to be just as sensitive as he’d hoped.

BB-8 chooses this moment to bump up against their tangled legs, beeping excitedly at them. [Important message from General Organa, Status: incredible-genius-and-all-around-great-person] it chirps.

The couple breaks into matching hysterical giggles at BB-8’s interruption, straightening up after untangling their limbs. “Yes, Beebee?” Poe asks, as they gaze down at their small friend.

[General Organa, Status: incredible-genius-and-all-around great-person requests that you and Rey, Status: hero-and-savior get a room.]

 Poe doesn’t have to look at Rey to know that she’s turned bright red in mortification. “Will do, buddy,” Poe says. Rey’s covering her face with her hands, so she doesn’t see the look of sheer mischief on Poe’s face.

He bends down to sweep her knees out from underneath her, so he can scoop her small frame into his arms. She shrieks, swatting at him, before laughing and threading her hands behind his neck. “What are you doing?” she questions, brow arching in what’s clearly meant to be a stern manner.

“Following orders,” he says, winking roguishly. “Let’s get a room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was worth the wait <3


	15. Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia intervenes; Rey gets a visit; and, Rey and Rose have some girl talk.

Leia decides ten minutes is enough time for a pleasant reunion. She even sends BB-8 to break up the party a little early, so she doesn’t walk in on anything…untoward in the hangar bay. Or in the X-Wing. Frankly, she’s getting too old for a repeat of Poe’s teenaged years.

From where she waits in the hallway, Leia watches Poe Dameron stride out of the hangar bay, Rey in his arms. They’re smiling, giddy, a bubble of Light blossoming between them so bright, she wants to look away.

Poe’s cheeks are flushed, and as he walks, he takes time more often than not to gaze down at Rey, who never looks away from his face. He looks dumbfounded to find her there, every time. He leans down to kiss the young woman on the nose. Rey laughs—she’s never heard the Jedi so carefree—and tries to reach up to kiss him back.

Leia clears her throat. Time to burst the bubble.

“If you don’t mind, Colonel Dameron, I’d like you to unhand my Commander so she can go to Medical and get that head wound checked out.”

Poe drops Rey, the decorated soldier making a sound similar to a squeak. “Hey, watch it, nerf herder!” Rey splutters from the ground. She gets up and dusts herself off. “And, I’m fine,” she protests at the General.

Leia has heard much the same from many a soldier. There’s no ignoring the blood dried on her forehead but, to be fair, the dazed look in her eyes could be stars from whatever she and Poe have been getting up to. The full reality of which Leia had tried her hardest to ignore. She needs to talk to the young woman about how to stop herself from broadcasting her _activities_ to every Force Sensitive person in the system.

“You’ve been through quite the battle, Commander. And as you going on the offense wasn’t ever the plan, I think you may need time to decompress before…carrying on with Colonel Dameron.” Poe Dameron gives a full-body wince (like _this_ is the most embarrassing position she’s found him in. Honestly, it doesn’t even make the top ten. Or twenty).

Rey sighs. “I had to step in, General. I’m sorry for disobeying orders, but Kevra’s life was in danger. And, I think I helped to even the odds up there.”

Poe bristles next to her. “Your life is worth a damn sight more than balancing out the odds in some skirmish, Rey.”

The Jedi raises a tired hand, and tries to counter with, “Poe, I told you we could talk about it later. Just, not right now.”

“Now is good, actually.” The hotshot in him is getting worked up. Leia eyes the vein in his forehead with amusement as Poe waves his hands wildly in Rey’s direction. “You disobeyed my direct order. You shut off your comms! You’re under-trained. You could have put all those pilots’ lives in danger.” Poe is clearly just getting started, and Rey looks like she’s gearing up to give as good as she gets.

Oh, to be young again.

“Get over yourself, you big hypocrite,” Leia stops them from continuing, her admonition half-jovial and half-serious. “You did the exact same thing _five months_ ago. And, as I recall, I gave you a promotion. Maybe Rey will make General faster than we thought.”

Poe’s face is brighter than a flightsuit. Rey looks determinedly anywhere but at Leia or Poe.

“If you’re done redressing this pilot after a successful flight, I think she should probably go get some rest, even if it’s not in the MedBay.” At this, Rey smiles at her. Small acts of kindness and consideration bring her such happiness; it makes the mother’s heart inside Leia ache.

“You’re dismissed.” Rey gives a somewhat-accurate salute. “And, Colonel Dameron, I’d like for you to stay.” Poe looks very _Poe_ at this order, and opens his mouth, no doubt to complain or argue. “No, no. You’re not going with the girl. She’s dead on her feet and the last thing you’re going to let her do is sleep.” Rey squeaks this time. She doesn’t wait around much longer to salute again and walk (run) down the hallway towards her quarters.

“I thought you said you were monitoring clean-up, General Organa,” Poe stands at attention, clearly still geared up to fight.

“Hmm, yes, I did say that. It went much faster than predicted,” Leia says impishly. “And I was—what’s that phrase you use?—tooling with you.” The colonel’s eyes bug out slightly. “It’s nothing less than you deserve.”

“General, I—”

“Can it, Poe. You’re not in trouble. Even if I know what you were hoping to get up to, had I let you go with her.”

Poe shuffles his feet, looking up at her through his eyelashes. “Yes, ma’am.” He’s obviously embarrassed.

Leia sighs. “While public indecency isn’t the best activity to encourage, I have to say, I’m glad it finally happened.”

Poe’s face is approaching nuclear levels of heat. Leia continues anyway. “I can’t say I’m surprised that you’re so drawn to her. Rey’s different. I know this, you know this. And it’s clear that you feel differently about her.” Poe nods, silent for once. “Watching you grow up, I was always a little worried, seeing you fly from girl to girl.” And she had been so worried about this boy. Her boy. Who had always thought of himself as an extra, a spare, a replacement for a lost son. Whether or not he knows it, Poe _is_ her son, through and through. Her bright light, her spark of hope. He’s such a good, kind man, and she couldn’t be prouder of this sweet boy, who’d finally found a woman who recognized his Light and treasured it.

Poe still looks sheepish from the reference to his past dalliances. “She’ll be good for you,” Leia says, feeling her throat scratchy from unshed tears, a sensation becoming more and more familiar. “You look very happy, Colonel. And she does too.”

“Thank you, General. She is…very special.”

“I’ll say. You two are wild for each other. You remind me of me and Han,” she chuckles, the pain of losing her husband digging at her heart, an ever-present beacon of love and grief, entwined for eternity.

Poe blushes. “That’s an honor, ma’am. I always looked up to Han as a sort of second father figure.”

Leia snorts. “And what if I meant that it’s _Rey_ who reminds me of Han.”

“But that would make me…”

“Yes.” She gives him her best withering stare. “Is that a problem?”

“Wha— No. No, ma’am. Even more flattering, really.” Leia shakes her head. Poe looks like he wants to get as far away as possible from here, eyeing the surface-level escape pods that line the hallway behind her.

“Poe.” He re-focuses on her. His brown eyes are tired and older than they should be, but still so kind. “Be good to her.”

“I will. I l—…” Poe cuts himself off. Leia knows what he wanted to say, though.

 “Am I understood?” Her voice sounds stronger than she feels.

“Understood, General.”

“And Poe, for what it’s worth,” Leia needs him to lose the kicked-Ewok look. “Shara would have loved her.”

Poe smiles, soft lines forming around his large brown eyes. Leia’s sharp eyes don’t miss his hand going to the necklace around his throat. “Yeah, she would have.”

***

**

Rey bursts into her closet. Her cheeks are still burning—half from the exhilaration of Poe’s lips against hers, and half in humiliation from being teased by Leia—and she presses the back of her hand to each cheek. She then touches her fingers to her lips, the ghost of Poe’s still present on them.

She giggles, and then giggles again and again. Rey spins once, happily, tunic swirling around her knees.

“So, I guess you’re alright.” Rey falls backwards, into the closed door.

Ben Solo watches her from the bed, crossed legged. He looks exhausted, but a faint smile is playing on his face.

“Kriff!” Rey gasps for air, clutching her chest. “Give me some warning next time!”

“Next time?” Ben is still smiling, strangely, not quite happy. Rey rolls her eyes and slides down into a seated position, mirroring Ben’s posture.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, your Supremeness?” Rey’s in too good of a mood to have Ben tank it.

Ben’s smile grows somehow sadder. “I felt you take a hit,” he explains, hands fidgeting in his lap. “You were frightened. I was worried.”

“Well, that’s not fair,” Rey says waspishly. “You get such easy access to my emotions, my thoughts, all of it, and I haven’t heard from you in weeks!”

“I’m not trying to eavesdrop, Rey.” He sounds so, so tired. “I’ve been blocking the Bond on both ends. It’s been…I’ve been distracted. By _something_.” He’s damn cryptic, and Rey’s about to lose her patience. “But when you took that hit, I felt it. I couldn’t ignore it. It felt like you were dying. Like I was dying.” He looks at her, earnest and true, the pain burning in his eyes.

He doesn’t yell like Poe had tried to. He doesn’t cock a disappointed eyebrow like Leia had. The look on his face is something else, something far, far more hurtful. Rey wonders what would have happened to this man, half-Ben and half-Kylo, if she had died today.

 _Darth Vader destroyed half the galaxy when his wife died._ That’s not a very helpful thought.

Rey’s hand twitches, and she fights the instinct to grab Ben’s hand.

“I felt you very strongly today. As it wore on, I knew you were physically fine, but the Bond kept trying to keep itself open. I just gave in,” he looks singularly guilty, “and it brought me here, right before you walked in.”

“So…you’ve been connected to my emotions all day?” Rey asks, the realization dawning on her. “Which means you felt…”

“I don’t care,” Ben scoffs, adamant and hurt. “I don’t care about the pilot. I don’t care who you kiss.”

Ben’s voice softens, eyes a liquid brown. “You’re alright. You’re safe. That’s enough.”

The Bond disconnects them. Rey sits in silence against her door, unmoving.

***

Every night since their first kiss, Rey has tried to maintain the previously established meditation schedule. It’s hard to breathe peacefully, contemplating the balance of the universe, when 80 kilos of impatient, hot-blooded pilot is trying to kiss you silly.

But, she comes every night, like clockwork, and sits across from Poe. They meditate for a short period of time before he’ll do something like kiss her nose, or play with her hair, or sometimes even hold her hands a certain way—and then they’re kissing in earnest. Always upright. Always leaning in from their seated positions. Always driving Rey crazy.

After three to four minutes of soft but passionate kisses, Poe will clear his throat, sit up straighter, and resume his meditative pose, with a quiet “Sorry.”

Rey isn’t sorry. She’s pissed.

***

Two weeks into this pattern, Rey’s sitting with Rose in the hangar bay, eating a pilfered bun from the canteen. The girls are laughing, kicking their feet off of a raised platform as they play a game.

Rey closes her eyes. “Okay, try again!” She can hear Rose shuffling around in an open toolbox.

“Okay, Jedi, what’s this?”

Rey thinks for a moment, listening to the way the Force bends around the object. “Oh, that’s a…a selenium coil!” She says, eyes still closed.

Rose chucks the coil back into the box with a loud _thwack._ “You opened your eyes!” The mechanic accuses. In response, Rey deliberately waves her hands in front of her closed eyes.

“Not a chance, Tico! You’re just not giving me anything hard to work with!” Her eyes pop open as her friend gives her a shove.

“Yeah, okay, Master Cheater-Wan! Isn’t dishonesty against the Jedi Code?”

Rey’s laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes. Her laughter cuts off quickly as something catches her eye.

Roughly forty feet away, Finn and Poe are outfitting the tandem X-wing with new weapons. Finn’s elbow deep in a pile of proton torpedo launchers, which had come in with the latest smuggling shipment.

The heat from the engines is clearly affecting both men. Finn’s sweating buckets, but he’s working through it, his years of training as a Stormtrooper allowing him to ignore the irritating sting of perspiration.

Not nearly as resistant to comfort, Poe’s got his uniform unzipped so that the top half hangs low around on his hips. As if that weren’t distracting enough, the grey undershirt he wears is dampened, sticking to his lower back, the muscles on his shoulders, and in between his pecs. The pilot turns to check the subspace communications antenna BB-8 has been playing with for the last ten minutes. He pauses, briefly, and yanks the bottom of his shirt up to mop the sweat off his face. The movement reveals the lower half of his stomach, glistening in the heat, showing a trail of dark hair below his navel leading somewhere that has Rey flushing.

Rose definitely doesn’t miss any of it. “So, about that Jedi Code,” she teases. “Are you gonna be committing some massive breach when you and Poe finally do it?”  

Rey tenses, and then laughs at Rose’s bluntness. “That wasn’t a rule Master Luke was particularly strict about, apparently.”

“Oh, good.” Rose waggles her eyebrows in a way that should be criminal. She’s perfectly aware that Rey and Poe have kissed, have been kissing. She was the first person Rey had told ( _and how delightful was it that Rey had a first person to tell something to? Had more than one person to tell things to?_ ). Finn had been clued in shortly after, and his disgruntled protectiveness had worn down into a begrudging happiness for his best friends.

“Besides,” Rey shrugs. “I don’t think he wants that with me.”

It’s Rose’s turn to laugh. “Oh, babe. Trust me, he definitely wants that.”

Across the hangar, Poe looks up and sees the women eyeing him. He waves at them, grinning wildly, and turns back to his X-Wing, an unnecessary swagger in his step.

Rey blushes, looks down at her feet, and then back up at Poe. Next to her, Rose smirks.

“Definitely does.”

“Maybe,” Rey admits. “But then why won’t he touch me for more than three minutes? I thought he did this kind of thing all the time.”

Rose’s eyes soften from teasing into something kind. “Rey, sweetie, he’s probably just worried about rushing things with you. You kissed him two weeks ago, and he knows this is new to you. And while yeah, he’s been around the base a couple times, he definitely wants more with you.” Rey must look uncertain, because Rose grabs her hand as she tells her, “Seriously, Rey. I’ve known him since I was fifteen years old. He’s never been like this about anyone. If you’re ready, you should tell him.”

Rey nods. “So you think I won't be…rushing it?” She sincerely has no marker of normalcy for this. Coupling physically was not something that was discussed on Jakku, outside of crude comments by fellow scavengers around the trading post.

“There isn’t a wrong or a right time,” Rose offers sagely. “As long as you two are safe, I don’t see the harm in it!”

“Safe?” Rey’s nose wrinkles in confusion. “Is there….dangerous sex?”

Rose throws her a patient smile. “No! Well, actually, yeah. But I don’t think Poe would want to start there. Look at him, he’s a big softie.” Sure enough, when Rey flicks her eyes over to him (praying that he’s too busy to pick up on any of this over the Bond) he’s rubbing BB-8’s belly and cooing while the droid beeps its contentedness. “No, when I say ‘safe,’ I mean birth control.”

“Oh. Oh!” Rey catches on. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I don’t think I want a baby.” Rey thinks of the women from Niima, too tired to continue after childbirth, nutrients used in caretaking, lifeforce drained by difficult pregnancies, bodies buried in paupers’ graves in an uncaring desert.

“If you don’t want a baby, let’s get you an implant. And then, we can talk about how to tell Poe you’re ready for sex.”

Rey smiles at Rose. “Like, tonight?” she asks, excitedly.

Rose laughs. “Whenever you two are ready. And if that’s tonight, I’m guessing Gold Squadron is going to have a very pleasant day tomorrow.”

Rey shoves Rose in retaliation as they climb down from the platform. They push each other, playfully, all the way to Medical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Oh, don't be mad at Leia.)
> 
>  
> 
> You can guess what's next. The only question is will it drop later tonight or tomorrow morning? Tune in to see ~just how early I go to bed on Friday nights~ #wild


	16. Breathe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where Rey and Poe...You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: (highly consensual, enthusiastic) Sex/Smut/whatever you want to call it. Also, a brief conversation about abuse/slavery. 
> 
> We 100% (and probably more) earn our M rating today, my friends. Legitimately, I debated upping the rating again to E, but this sort of thing isn't going to be the majority of the fic, so I'm not.
> 
> Please only proceed if you want 10 pages of (maybe badly written) intimacy (and, as AO3 says, are of the right age to consume this (again maybe badly written) chapter!!))
> 
> I'm already embarrassed.

That night, when she comes to Poe’s room, she kisses him the moment she walks in instead of resuming her typical position for meditation.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Poe looks thoroughly pleased by her greeting. Rey runs her hands through his hair and pulls him in for another searing kiss.

“Hi, Poe,” she murmurs into his mouth, barely breaking the kiss. Poe gets the hint, and grabs her hips with a groan, crushing his mouth to hers again. They stand, pressed together, for several minutes, his tongue lazily running along the length of her bottom lip before darting in. Rey feels a shiver start from the small of her back, swelling over her shoulders. She’s consumed by how he feels against her, and as she crowds against him, she feels something brush against her hip.

“Ah, sorry,” Poe awkwardly pushes his hips away from hers while trying to keep his hands on her. He looks flustered. “Just give me a minute, sorry.”

Rey laughs, placing her hands on his shoulders and tries to pull him back, trying to run her hands down his shirt towards his waistband. He’s laughing as well as he grabs her hands, lifting them out of the way, leaning in to kiss her on the nose instead.

“Come on, Poe.” He’s sweet as he shakes his head, squinty-eyed as he smiles that lazy-Poe Dameron-smile at her.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I need a minute. Before I do something you don’t want me to.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Who says I don’t want it?”

Despite her best efforts, Poe continues to pull away, dropping her hands and shaking his head. “We can’t, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” he replies, gesturing between them, the space between them, space formed the second he’d pulled away, stepped back, away from her. “ _This_ …this is new to you. I know it is. Just because this is something I’ve done before,” and _kriff_ why does he have to mention that now, “it doesn’t mean it’s something you have to do.”

“I’m not made of fucking glass,” Rey insists, almost angry now. She hates that she can feel tears, born of frustration, springing to her eyes. “I know what this means. I know what sex is. Rose told me all about it. I want you, you want me. You go inside me, it feels nice.” Poe’s eyes have bugged out of his head to the point she’s worried about permanent damage. She hates how young she sounds, but she plows onward, directly into what has the power to hurt her, as usual. “I have an implant. You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I want.” To emphasize her point, she shucks off her tunic, standing in front of him in nothing more than a thin tank and her leggings.

Poe’s face is redder than the salt-slick surface of Crait as he averts his eyes away from her body. “Rey, sex is more than the mechanics and ‘feeling nice.’ I don’t want you to feel like we need to rush this.”

“Rush what? I almost died a few weeks ago. You approach death at a regular enough frequency that it makes me wonder what you ever did to the Force. I want you. Don’t you want me?” Poe makes a grunting noise, face still flaming red. “Oh.” She pauses. He still isn’t looking at her. “Oh…you don’t…want me. Fuck. I’m sorry.” It’s her turn to apologize. Force, she’s so stupid. Rey moves to pick up her tunic, the tears that had formed moments prior threatening to spill over. “I’ll just…”

She’s stopped by a pair of hands, gripping her arms tightly. Rey looks into the face of Poe, who appears thunderous. “No!” He shouts, almost shaking her in his vehemence. “No! Don’t think that. Never think that. Of course I want you! _Kriff,_ it’s all I can do sometimes, all I can do is think about wanting you." Oh, that confession does something to her stomach. "Gods, Rey, if you had an inkling of half the things I want to do to you. Hells. Beebee himself would shock the living daylights out of me for even thinking them.”

Rey’s mind grinds to halt, thoughts blurring pleasantly, like the Falcon making the jump into Hyperspace. Poe continues, words pouring out of him, “If you’re ready, if you’re sure you're ready, we can do this. I’d love to do this. But, let’s do it right?” He ends with a question, looking over at his bed.

“Okay,” she smiles, happy at this change in speed. She goes over and sits on the bed, bouncing slightly as she slides back towards the headboard. Poe stares at her for several seconds, unmoving. Rey awkwardly pats the mattress next to her. “Should we start kissing again?” she asks, worried by his silence.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving forward like he’s in a trance. “Yeah, let’s do that. Sorry. Just. Give me a second. I want to memorize how you look in my bed.” Rey thinks she’s going to combust as he stalks towards the bed. He looks predatory. She’s pretty sure she likes it.

Before she knows it, he’s on the bed, and he’s on his hands and knees, slinking up towards her, up over her legs, her hips, her torso, coming to a stop, his body hovering over hers, face inches away from hers, eyes burning into hers. He definitely looks predatory. She definitely likes it.

“Just say the word, Sunshine. Say the word and I’ll stop.” She nods, fervently, tilting her head to kiss him as he comes down to press most of his weight into her, which feels better than anything Rey could possibly think of to compare with.

The way he kisses her makes her forget her own name. A few minutes later, and she feels brave enough to grind her hips into the hardness in his pants. He groans, but doesn’t pull away this time, instead pressing down and giving her a small relief as the friction causes her nerve endings to light in a new, unfamiliar, and wonderful way.

Driven by a sudden desire for both _less clothes_ and _more skin,_ she untucks his shirt from his pants. They part long enough for him to sit up, and he grabs the collar from the back, yanking it up and over his head. Her throat goes dry as she looks at him, kneeling between her legs, erection straining at his pants, chest and abs bare under her gaze. Poe is _gorgeous,_ which she’d already known, but it’s different to have it confirmed like this.

His skin is tan, golden in a way similar, but also not, to his Force signature. The skin pulls tightly across the muscles of his abdomen, chest covered in attractive dark curls.

“May I?” It takes a second for her to respond, before she realizes he wants to even the playing field. She sits up as well, kissing him between his pecs, and then she rips off her tank top for him.

No running today meant no breast band, so her upper body is bare before him. She’s never felt particularly well-endowed, and even after months of steady meals, she knows her ribs still stick out in a way that Rose’s and Connix’s don’t. But Poe looks at her, hands twitching, looking unable to stop himself from raking his eyes over every inch of skin, and she doesn’t feel unacceptable or insufficient. She feels powerful. She feels wanted.

It’s a blur of movement and fumbled touch after that, and before she knows it, she’s naked. More importantly, Poe’s naked, nothing on him save his necklace that holds the silver ring. As he leans down to kiss her again, for the moment refusing her the pleasure of his full weight on top of her, she feels the ring rest on her sternum, its metal strangely warm to the touch, its chain draping against her skin.

“Still with me, Sunshine?” he asks.

“Yes.” She smiles at him, her cheeks hurting from how much she’s been smiling and kissing and smiling. Poe has that effect on her.

His head ducks down, and he begins to tease his way down her body. She sighs and gasps and moans at each new sensation, particularly enjoying the way his chest hair tickles her most sensitive skin.

He kisses around each small breast, not seeming to find them wanting in the least. Every touch of his lips to her skin causes Rey to go a little more out of her mind, hands stroking his jaw, his forehead, pulling on his hair the way that she knows he likes.

He kisses her stomach. He moves to the left side of her ribcage, and kisses every inch of skin.

He moves to her right ribcage.

And he stops. She lifts her head, ready to scold him, and she tenses as she realizes the reason for his pause.

He’s staring at the white scar an inch above her hip. It’s about two inches wide, a half-circle with three lines scored through the bottom curve.

It’s obviously a brand.

Rey hadn’t thought about it at all as he’d undressed her, and now here he is, face-to-face with yet another reminder that she isn’t _normal._ Poe flicks his eyes up at her, thumb going to stroke the skin around the brand, but not the brand itself.

“I got it when I was 12,” she says, refusing to look away. “Unkar got tired of me trying to run away. Told me he’d make sure I’d never forget who I was. Never forget that I was property, that I belonged to him.” Poe growls, low in his throat, thumb stroking a little harder against her.

“Rey,” he begins, eyes darkening with something other than lust, but she shakes her head, cutting him off, as one hand goes to tangle in his hair, a way to demand his attention.

“Poe, it’s fine,” she says, because it has to be. “I got over feeling like property a long time ago. I told myself I’d never belong to anyone, in any way.”

He swallows, fire still burning in his eyes. “You’ll never belong to anyone, Rey.” He looks deeply conflicted, something clearly winning out. “You could never belong to anyone. You have galaxies inside of you,” and she feels his affection for her singing through the Bond, the fierce pride he has for her doubled by the passion he feels, the desire he has for her safety, the deep-seated need he has for her presence.

It’s heady, and intoxicating, and it’s what makes her say, voice thickened by an unnamed emotion, “But I didn’t understand, then, Poe. I know better now. I know that I wouldn’t mind belonging to someone like you.”

His mouth is on her, suddenly, pressed over the brand as he sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth. She gasps at the sensation, and when he pulls his head back to examine his work, she looks too. A mark that promises to bruise shines on her skin, the brand completely covered by it. Rey loves the way it looks, feeling something primal and untamed go loose inside of her, a feeling mirrored in Poe’s eyes as he runs his thumb over it.

“And when that fades, I’ll give you another. And then another,” he promises. “For as long as you want me.” The phrasing of it stirs something in her, the notion that she’ll tire of him first, and she opens her mouth to reassure him, but he’s already preoccupied, lips sliding over her skin, and doing a very immediate job of distracting her.

 _“Mi alma,_ ” he murmurs into her hipbone, pressing a kiss into the sensitive skin there. She knows they speak a language different from Galactic Basic on Yavin 4, but she’s never had cause to learn it on Jakku. Something about the rough edge to his voice makes her squirm, even without knowing the meaning of his words.

“ _Mi vida,”_ he trails up her stomach, and between the valley of her breasts. Rey doesn’t recognize herself as she gasps and writhes. She’s dimly aware that she’s begging him, but for what she doesn’t know, just barely takes notice of her voice saying “please, please” on endless repeat.

“ _Mi corazon,”_ he groans into her neck. He presses the length of his body over her, hips settling over hers. She feels a renewed appreciation for the muscles of his back as she gains enough control of herself to wrap her hands on his shoulders. His body covers her entirely, and her reach isn’t long enough for her hands to meet behind his back. Rey feels supremely warm, and safe, and the heat between her legs reaches a fever pitch.

After a few moments of testing all the various pressures he can apply to her neck to best drive her wild, Poe shifts his weight, creating some space between their bodies. Rey misses him immediately.

Her pilot reaches down, his destination obvious. Rey grabs his hand. “Don’t want your fingers,” she whispers.

“It’ll feel better, sweetheart. It’ll feel better if I start with this.” He pulls his hand away from hers, stroking it down her side, over her stomach.

Rey shakes her head, adamantly. “I’ve never had anything or anyone inside of me before”

“Kriff, that’s...” Poe struggles to form words, worrying his lip between his teeth. “That’s exactly why I should…” he trails off again, hand doing a lazy circuit of all the parts of her he can touch. “It’ll feel better if I touch you, first.”

It’s no more than what Rose, slightly pink in the ears, had told her, but hearing it come out of his mouth while his hands are on her make Rey’s body flush with heat in a way it never has before.

Still, she knows what she wants. “I want it to be just you, this time.” She half-cringes at the boldness of her words, and Poe’s breathing changes. He hides his face in her neck, where he resumes kissing her. It’s clear that he’s unsure of whether or not to agree with her, but Rey’s pretty dead-set on this course. As Poe kisses the tender skin beneath her ear, she throws caution to the wind and wraps her legs around his hips.

The shock of contact that comes from him lining up against her center leaves her breathless, eyes threatening to roll into the back of her head. Poe throws his head back with a grunt, eyes fluttering shut with a sharp “Fuck.”

Rey watches a bead of sweat cut a path down his neck. She’s reminded of the moment months earlier in the hangar bay, when she’d felt that heat the first time; the moment she knew she wanted him.

Nothing’s stopping her now, no pilots or emergencies or _decorum,_ so she leans up, her breasts pushing into his chest, creating a friction that would make her moan if she wasn’t on a mission, and licks the sweat away, starting in the hollow of his throat and dragging her tongue up to the corner of his jaw.

He throbs against her (and _oh_ isn’t that a feeling she’d like to explore further) and chokes on whatever he was going to say; “ngh” is the only discernible sound he produces. With a satisfied smirk, she settles back against the pillows. The smirk just about falls off her face as Poe directs his attention back down on her.

The look on his face is absolutely _feral_. His brown eyes are molten, his plush mouth wet, bottom lip still caught between his teeth. She twists her hips under him, seeking friction, something _more_. He provides what she’s looking for, thrusting his hips slightly, creating a back and forth rhythm, slipping over and over her, making Rey see stars.

“Rey,” he says, voice ragged with desire. “Tell me you want this.” It’s phrased like a command, but Rey can tell that he wants her honest answer.

His gaze is almost too intense as he bears down on her. She’s completely lost the ability to form words, overwhelmed by the look in his eyes. He hesitates; she feels him pulling away.

Desperately, Rey casts out into the Force, brushing up against him in their connection. She projects everything she’s feeling towards him, particularly how _much_ she wants this, wants him. At the same time, she bucks her hips up, brushing against his hard cock. Poe moans, settles back down over her, and kisses her with abandon. “Is that a yes?” he asks when they part.

“Yes,” she thinks to him. “Yes, yes, of course yes.” She feels his spirit surge through their Bond. Everything around them is light and golden, reflecting the significance of their union.

“Oh,” Poe gasps. “I could _hear_ you.”

“Yeah?” Rey laughs, lighter than she's ever felt.

“Clear as day,” he says. “Sweet girl. Clever girl.” He bends down to drag his tongue across her collarbone. Rey mewls and pulls at his hair. His own resultant moan is accompanied by a surge in the Bond. He doesn’t come across as individual words, not yet, but the feeling that passes between them is astounding. It’s more than she can bear, and she needs him right _now_.

“Please, Poe,” Rey asks. “Now?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he nods, eyes closing, briefly. “I’ll try to make this good for you.”

“It couldn’t be anything else,” she reassures him. “It’s you.”

He smiles at her, joy lighting his features. He ducks down to kiss her neck, her chin. His large hand comes to hold her jaw, elbows bearing his weight, and he kisses her lips once, softly, belying the passion in his eyes. Poe takes a deep, shuddering breath as he reaches down to grasp his erection in his free hand.

Rey inhales sharply as she feels him press against her. They pause for a moment, kissing and enjoying the pulse of emotion that passes between them. Poe slides his hand up his cock, and rests his thumb on her clit. Rey whimpers, a sound unbefitting a Jedi, and he laughs shakily as he lays his forehead on hers.

“Easy now, Sunshine. I got you.” He strokes her softly. Even now, when he’s being driven wild by desire, he’s still so patient and kind.

He pulls back slightly to watch her face, and begins to press in. Rey squeaks at the unfamiliar feeling. He’s pushing at her from the inside, the throbbing at her core singing in delight. But something tells her that this is _too slow_ for her to get what she wants.

“I need you to fuck me,” she thinks, the lust echoing across the Bond. He pauses in his movement and kisses her fully. “Kriff,” he moans. “Give a guy some warning.”

She smiles at him, and shoves her hips up, playfully and impatiently. She winces slightly at the increased stretch, but it’s worth it for the thunderstruck look on Poe’s face.

Rey arches a brow at him, waiting. “Alright, you crazy Jedi,” he laughs roughly. He pushes all the way in, something snapping inside Rey. The pain must reach Poe across the Bond, because he flinches in sympathy and kisses her brow. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Just, give me a second,” she whispers, brow wrinkling as she concentrates. She focuses on the pleasure of being this close to Poe, on the shining light in his eyes. He looks at her like she’s the only person in the galaxy. She closes her eyes, and nods. “Move. Please.”

He obeys, slowly at first, and then in earnest. Her eyes open so she can watch him move. He’s staring down at her, brow furrowed, eyes almost unfocused from pleasure. Poe pulls almost all the way out, and then slides back in; around the fifth thrust, she feels a delicious tension spreading from a spot deep inside her. She whimpers, and pushes at Poe’s chest, then pulls his shoulders. “That. There. Yes,” she babbles, crossing her legs around his back to hook her feet together above his muscular ass.

“Is that an order?” He asks, grinning devilishly, tossing his damp curls out of his face. Great, he’s a tease in bed, too. Rey could hit him if she didn’t need him to _do that again._

Instead, she plays dirty right back, raising a shaking hand to tangle in his hair, and _yanks_ in a way that she knows is on the right edge of pain, judging from the Bond. “Please, Colonel,” she purrs his title. “Please do that again.”

The brown of his eyes is swallowed by black as his pupils dilate. “Fuck,” he groans. Poe finally complies with her order, speeding up, and hitching his hips slightly on the downstroke, hitting the spot inside her.

She feels his pleasure, amplifying her own, as he drives into her. Rey’s hands scrabble at Poe’s back, fingernails accidentally scoring the skin on his shoulders. Poe hisses, and Rey frantically apologizes, “Sorry, sorry!” horrified at having hurt him.

“Don’t be sorry, just do that again,” he groans, nipping at her jaw. Rey can work with that. She digs her nails into his back, and thrusts her hips up to meet his. Poe, well, Poe _howls_ and picks up speed impossibly, hand reaching up to brace against the wall. Instinctively, Rey knows that she’s going to be sore tomorrow, but it doesn’t stop her from trying to match his pace.

Poe huffs out, “Close, so close,” and Rey kisses him, telling him through the Bond that _it’s okay to let go_ , and he says, “Ladies first,” reaching down between them to thrum at her clit.

He circles once, twice, before setting in with a quick tempo. Rey’s throat burns as she screams with her teeth clenched shut, hand clasped over her mouth to stop the noise from slipping out.  

Lifting her hand away from her mouth, Poe says, “Wanna hear you,” and Rey loses all semblance of control. His hips slow down, but he pushes into her with more force.

Rey shouts his name as her vision goes out for a few seconds.

She comes down, feeling higher than the Millennium Falcon soaring through atmo. Poe’s still going, head tilted to the side and eyes tightly shut, sweat dripping down his brow and mouth half-open as he focuses. Rey reaches up to stroke his lovely face, and his eyes open. _You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,_ she thinks, thumb running along his bottom lip.

Poe stares down at her, mouth open, and chokes out, “You’re everything,” hips stuttering and then stilling. His pleasure peaks across the Bond, and Poe’s head comes down to rest between her neck and shoulder. Rey holds him, stroking his back as he breathes raggedly, chanting her name, kissing her skin at random.

Neither of them move as they lie together, hearts pounding.

“So,” Rey says, casually after a moment, sweat cooling between their bodies, suddenly aware that the sheets are a sticky mess. “That’s what all the fuss is about.”

Poe lifts his head to kiss her nose, sweetly. “Yeah, Sunshine.”

“Is that what it’s always like?” She knows he’s got much more experience in this department than she does, which doesn’t make her jealous, but more _worried_ that this might not have been as special, as life-changing as it was for her.

**

“Is that what it’s always like?” Poe knows she needs an answer, and fast, judging by the doubt he feels rippling through their connection. He needs to be as eloquent as possible to dispel any false notion she has that this might be _normal,_ that what they shared was anything but _spectacular._

“No, definitely not,” is all he manages as he lifts his torso off of hers, resting his weight on his palms so he can look at her better. Rey nods once, sadly, looking as if she expected it. She folds her arms across her chest, and smiles at him, her eyes going soft and broken.

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking somewhere over his shoulder. “I guess I can’t be good at everything the first time I try it.” Poe looks down horrified. It’s a damn shame he’s still coming down from his high, still inside of her, because there’s no way he can think clearly enough to help her. But kriff, he’ll try.

“No, sweetheart. No, no, nononono.” He kisses her, trying to stop the nonsense coming out of her mouth. He wishes he were better at projecting through their Bond so he could implant the depth of what he feels for her inside of her, let it take root in her heart and never let go.

“It’s never been like that, for me. I’ve never, ever felt that close to somebody in my life. That was incredible. It’s never felt that _right._ It feels like I’ve been waiting for you.” Rey perks up slightly.

“You mean it?” she asks.

“Of course I mean it, silly girl. I mean it. Gods, I mean it. That was…that was everything. I meant what I said.” _You’re everything._ He can’t even pretend she didn’t hear that choked confession. He admitted so much to her tonight, he worries that he’s shown too much, too quickly.

The worry goes away when Rey blushes prettily, and it’s interesting that even now that they’ve shared this, shared almost everything, that sight still makes his stomach clench.

Even more interestingly, the blush reaches down to her sternum. He’ll be exploring that later.

“So that was good for you, too?”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her again. “Sunshine, I’ve never come that hard in my life.” Her blush deepens, which was his intention. “But, I am sorry for this.”

“For what?”

“For this,” he says dramatically, pulling out of her. He winces slightly, the drag of it slightly too much for his overstimulated dick. Rey sighs as he leaves her, and a moment or two after he’s all the way out, she looks down horrified.

“Ergh!” Her nose crinkles in disgust. “What even…” Realization dawns across her face. “Ugrrggghhh!” Poe, bastard that he is, laughs in delight, kissing her nose. She swats at him, rolling away to grip her sides. “Ewewewew!” Poe responds by getting up off the bed.

“Where are you going?” she demands, sitting up with her legs together, and looking panicked. _Come back!_ A young girl’s voice echoes in the Bond.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises hastily, ducking down to kiss her firmly. “Really, just give me five seconds. You can even count.” She looks up at him, arms still wrapped around her torso, a pout causing her face to scrunch up adorably. Rey nods in agreement, hazel eyes serious.

“Five seconds,” she confirms. “And then your ass better be back here, Flyboy.”

“One!” she starts without warning. He’s glad to feel the tension bleed out of her and he jogs as gracefully as possible to the bathroom.

“Two!” He snags two small towels off the counter and briefly runs one under the ‘fresher . The ‘fresher. Now that’s an idea.

“Three!” Poe’s vanity wins out and he checks his hair in the mirror. His curls are ridiculously mussed, and his cheeks flushed a deep red. His eyes are bright, and he’s still smiling. He’s not sure he’ll ever stop.

“Four!” He’s out of time and he slides back into his room, skittering to a halt in front of Rey.

“Five!” She sings triumphantly, smiling at him. Her smile falters when he doesn’t respond. But, he doesn’t think he can.

Other than the mark he left over the brand (That the _bastard_ on Jakku left on her skin. The darkness that he rarely feels wants _blood, wants him to hunt down that animal, feel his fear as he rips him limb from limb_ ) Poe doesn’t remember ravaging Rey—he remembers being as gentle as his passion allowed—but she has lovebites littering her neck, her collarbone, her chest. If his hair was mussed, her hair is a genuine _mess_. Her lips are swollen, her arms are still crossed awkwardly across her chest, and her legs are stiffly out in front of her.

Despite all that, Rey’s sitting in his bed looking like a goddamn queen, her natural light filling every corner of the room. And Poe’s hit with the overwhelming knowledge that she chose _him._ A broken mess of an ex-fighter pilot with baggage to spare. This incredible, beautiful woman, who saw the good in everyone, saw the good in him, even when he couldn't. The last hope for the Jedi is in his bed, and she chose him. 

_I wouldn’t mind belonging to someone like you._

And she let him in. And she’s...staring at him.

Poe falls to his knees at the edge of his bed. “ _Reina_ ,” he breathes. A little cheesy, but the way she bites her lip suggests that Rey doesn’t seem to mind. He tugs on her feet, trying to get her to open her legs.

“What? No!” She protests, “I’m a mess down there!”

“That’s sort of the point, sweetheart.” He holds up the towels for further explanation.

“I can do that,” she says, reaching for them. He waves her off.

“I know you can, gorgeous. But let me.” She sighs and then nods, finally accepting that he just wants to help her. He wants to do everything for her. His sweet girl.

He tells her as much as he tries to push her legs apart. He’s still kneeling at the foot of the bed, and he strokes his way up her thighs. She shivers deliciously under his fingers, and he tsks loud enough for her to hear.

“Let me take care of you,” he pleads, gazing into her beautiful eyes. She holds her breath as he reaches the apex, the soft place where her thighs meet. Her legs fall apart so he can look at all of her.

It’s Poe’s turn to lose his breath as he sees the evidence he left behind. He tenderly wipes it away, running a steady hand over her; he uses the wet towel to finish cleaning, wiping it over her thighs for good measure. Finally, he looks up and sees Rey staring at him, pink in the face and panting.

“Thank you,” she squeaks.

“Any time, Sunshine. Any time.”

“Come here, Poe,” she says, crooking a finger at him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

He gives himself a cursory wipe with the clean part of the towel, and blindly throws it to the corner of his room not occupied by an already-asleep BB-8 (clean up will be a Future-Poe-Problem) and clambers back on the mattress, scooting Rey over so he can hold her properly on the military-issue bed.

Poe curls his arms around her body, and she settles into him with a sigh, head on his shoulder and nose in his collarbone. They pull the covers around them, and Poe strokes his hand up and down her back, humming Shara’s lullaby. Within moments, she’s burrowing in, making a small contented noise in the back of her throat. Poe tries to remember to breathe as her hand slides up his abdomen, and touches the ring around his neck.

Rey circles it idly for a few moments, and then slips it onto her slender finger so that it rests, halfway down, on her second knuckle. They both look at the silver ring as it shines against her tanned skin.

"Pretty," she yawns, already almost asleep.

"Suits you," Poe whispers, hoping that his pounding heart won't disturb her. She hums, nuzzling his chest with her dainty nose, and releases the ring. 

A few minutes later, her hand fully relaxes on his chest, a sign that she’s dozing off.

The pilot isn’t sure when he became such a coward, because it isn’t until he hears her breathing even out that he whispers, “I love you,” the room his only audience.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It finally happened! That was my first ever scene of that *ahem* nature, so hopefully it wasn't terrible? 
> 
> Happy Saturday, I'm gonna go hide under a rock.
> 
> p.s Given what we learned about Rey's childhood, here, I hope you're less angry at me for taking a chapter to establish that she felt 100% comfortable and ready to pursue this with Poe!
> 
>  
> 
> p.p.s. Chapter title is from "Breathe In Breathe Out" by Mat Kearney from the Grey's Anatomy soundtrack, and when I was listening to that yesterday, I realized it incidentally summarizes how Poe feels throughout most of this fic so far. *Shrugs* (and yes, that means there will be a later chapter titled "Breathe Out." And it'll be...well. You'll see)


	17. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe dreams well, for once; Rey wakes him up; Finn has some questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep a "once every twelve hours" update schedule as it's the weekend. 
> 
> Warnings: foreplay/implied oral sex in first half

_Light. Balance. Love. This is what Poe feels, as he sits under the tree of his childhood._

_Planted from a cutting gifted by Luke Skywalker himself, the tree has blossomed over the years, its roots spread deep into the dirt, tangles of them rising to crest over the ground, creating a network of smooth, warm bark, a sea that Poe had adeptly navigated as a child._

_Here, tonight, he sits, patient and serene, and leans his head back against the trunk to stare up at its branches, twining and twisting towards a purpling sky. He breathes in. There is no fear, here._

_He breathes out. There is no loss, here._

_There is only the Force._

_Poe knows when he wakes, this sense of calm will be gone. This peace will be gone, and will only be found again in the quiet moments he steals from a young woman who has the vital destiny as savior of the galaxy. A young woman who cannot, should not, be concerned with saving Poe Dameron at the same time._

_“I wish you could have met her,” he whispers at the sky, hoping that this tree, which has already given him so much, will deliver the message._

_He closes his eyes. He breathes in, and reaches out, the way Rey had taught him._

_The tree on Yavin 4 reaches back._

Poe startles awake, and blinks firmly to clear the sleep from his eyes. He doesn’t remember the last time he had slept so well, so far removed from his nightmares. His heart is throbbing, full of a powerful emotion, and he wonders if that’s what woke him up.

A moment later, he realizes the actual reason for his waking; his bed is occupied by a gorgeous woman, who’s currently kissing his neck, hands slipping over his chest, pulling on the hair there.

Poe groans, and he swears he can feel Rey smile against his jaw.

“Did I wake you?” She asks, sounding utterly unbothered by her potential guilt.

“Mmm, I’ll find a way to forgive you.” He pulls her up so her torso is on top of his, and kisses her thoroughly, running a hand through her hair, trying to avoid the tangles as much as possible.

“Don’t want to sound greedy, but any chance at a repeat of earlier?” He asks lazily, eyes still droopy from sleep. Rey grins, sharp and feral, and nods enthusiastically. “Okay, so how do you wanna do this?” He considers a series of possibilities, calculating their benefits, and thinks he has enough energy to flip her over.

Before he can attempt it, Rey swings a leg over his hips and straddles him, perched over his erection; it had already woken up with him, and now it’s even more interested in the proceedings. Rey sits up in his lap, and puts her hands on his chest. Poe curses in five different languages before he reaches up to grab one of her breasts in his hand. With his other, he grasps her waist and pulls her down, guiding the twist of her hips as he rocks up against her.

Rey half-moans, half-whimpers. He sees and feels a crash of interest, arousal, and pain go through her.

“You sore, sweetheart?” He asks, instantly concerned, abandoning his exploration of her breasts to cup her face tenderly.

She nods, and leans down to kiss him, chest to chest, sweetly.

Then, Rey pulls away to hide her face in his neck. “I’m sorry, I really do want to do this,” she says, slightly muffled. “I’m sure I can take it if you want to go again. Just, maybe slowly?”

That won’t do. He tugs on the earlobe he can reach, and strokes her jaw, trying to get her attention. He manages to get her to lift her face to look at him, so she can see how serious he is. “Rey, I will never, ever ask you to do something you aren’t comfortable with,” he says, pushing his earnestness through the Bond. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She still sounds disappointed. “But even if I’m sore, I still _want_ you.”

“You can have me, Sunshine,” he whispers, hand soft against her face. In the dim light of his room, he can see the red around her mouth, left by the shadow of his scruffy facial hair. He might have to shave; he might also like marking her. He'll have to ask her opinion, later. 

“But if we can’t…” she seems unsure of how to finish the question.

Poe decides to try a little dirty talk, test the waters. “I don’t need to use my cock to fuck you, beautiful.” He’s playing a dangerous game, speaking to Rey like this when things are so good, so _new_ between them; but, while Rey’s face is red, she doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, her eyes take on a hungry look, and she bites her lip in a very distracting way. _So, dirty talk is on the table in the future. Good to know_.

“Are you sure?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t want you too tired tomorrow while you’re training the cadets.” Poe isn’t sure where she learned to look so mischievous. He’s a little worried it was from him.

He grabs her around the waist again, and rolls them so he’s on top. Poe kisses her, because he can, because she lets him, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever let an opportunity to kiss her pass him by.

Poe pulls away so he can look at her. “Not a chance. I won't even need to lift a hand, Sunshine.”

She looks a little surprised. “I guess something other than your cock would be alright,” she admits, looking both curious and embarrassed. “But how could it possibly be hands free?”

He whispers what he intends to do to her in her ear. Rey gasps and squirms underneath him. “I...I think I could be okay with that.”

Poe raises an eyebrow. “Well if it’s such a hardship…” he shrugs, and pretends to roll away.

Rey shakes her head quickly, and cups his jaw in her hands. “No, no! No, it sounds lovely. Would you…please? I’d like to try.”

Poe kisses her firmly, and sighs for dramatic effect. He slides himself down the length of her body, kissing as much of her overheated skin as he can. “Work, work, work,” he murmurs, settling in between her legs, allowing his warm breath to blow over her. He huffs a laugh at her drawn-out moan, and leans in to kiss her, once, softly, on her clit.

Rey’s legs bend as she mewls, and her thighs are suddenly tight around his head. Poe grins, wraps his hands around her hips, and gets to work.

(Judging by the objects levitating around his room, Rey’s definitely okay with it.)

 

***

Later that morning, Poe’s sitting at the mess hall table, one hand holding his fork as he idly eats breakfast, most of his attention on a holonovel. His other arm is wrapped around Rey’s waist, holding her close to his side. The Jedi next to him eats with her elbows on the table, chewing with even more gusto than usual, clearly hungry from their night’s activities.

Rose drags Finn over, both of them looking sleepy but happy, and they sit down across from the other couple.

There’s a few beats of silence and then:

“Rey,” Finn asks warily, “What’s that?” He points at her neck.

Poe looks up from his holonovel, and over at Rey. His eyes widen as he remembers the marks he’d left on her skin. He’d marked up his girl with hickeys like he was a love-stupid teenager necking in the woods of Yavin 4 in a borrowed speeder. And one such mark, large and almost-purple red, is terribly visible above the neckline of her tunic.

Kriff.

Rey doesn’t even pause in her chewing to answer. “Oh, Poe likes to use his teeth,” she says cheerfully, cheeks full of egg-protein and nutriflakes (he’d tried to tell her that was a disgusting combination, but she loved it).

Poe was embarrassed before, but now he’s praying for a quick death as he sits, paralyzed. Rey takes advantage of his stillness sneak the bite of veg that he had speared on his fork moments before, now frozen in front of his face.

Finn looks thunderous, and Rose looks oddly…pleased.

“He WHAT?” Finn snaps. A couple of heads in the mess turn to look at the quartet, and Rose smacks his arm. “Sorry, sorry.” He lowers his voice, and yell-whispers, “What did you say?”

“Poe likes to use his teeth, during sex,” Rey clarifies, slightly less cheerful and more confused, shooting a glance at the silent pilot next to her. Poe’s staring at the ceiling now, waiting for one of the old gods to strike him down, to smite a dirty old man. Finn might do their work for them, judging by the look on his face.

Finn opens his mouth, and a strangled noise emerges. Rose slaps a hand over the bottom half of his face, and smiles brightly back at Rey. “That sounds nice,” she says. “I’m always telling Finn to be a little more rough when we have sex.” Finn clearly is wishing for death too, now. Rey nods, enthusiastically, and grabs her empty glass.

“I’m going to try to convince Mordak to give me more juice!” The base’s crusty old cook has a legendary soft spot for Rey, probably due to the unbridled enthusiasm she has for his cooking even when no one else can swallow it without a bucket and a half of hot sauce. She throws her legs over the bench and hisses slightly as she stands. “Goodness, I really am sore!” Rey leans down to quickly kiss the side of Poe’s now clean-shaven face, who thinks he’d like to be swallowed whole by the floor, now, thanks, and skips away to the canteen.

Finn’s near apoplectic. Before the ex-stormtrooper can talk, Rose jabs a fork at him and snarls, “Don’t you _dare_ say a word, Finn. Don’t you dare.”

Her boyfriend whips his head to look at her. “What? How can I not say something? He’s _defiling_ my best friend, who probably didn’t even know what sex was until she met him!”

“Rey is sweet, Finn, but she’s not a child. She can make her own decisions,” Rose snaps right back. “I know you love her, and I love her too, but she’s so happy right now. And yeah, maybe someone should eventually tell her that she might want to keep some details private, but she’s so kriffing happy, and I’ll strangle you myself before you take that away from her.”

Poe doesn’t know what he did to deserve Rose in his life. He could kiss her for her defense of Rey and her budding sexuality. He doesn’t know how he ever thought she was annoying when she was a teenager.

Then, Rose leers at him. “Don’t think you’re getting off so easy, old man. What, are you part sar-lacc? Suction isn’t always a good thing.”

Right, that’s how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry the angst will return with the plot in Chapter 18


	18. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kylo Ren Pain Train makes a reappearance  
> (Wonder what Kylo's been up to since he saved Poe's life? Here you go!)  
> Kylo's POV of Rey's first battle, as well as the events of Chapter 16.
> 
> Warning: Accidental Voyeurism. Kylo, to his credit, tries really hard to not take advantage of it. The Force has other ideas.

The same day he saves Poe’s life and comforts Rey, Kylo goes to confront his head General. He probably should have waited for his emotions to settle a little more before engaging with Armitage.

The assembled leadership of the First Order looks on in horror as the two large men scream at each other, red-faced, spittle flying. Stormtroopers flank the room, eyeing the exits with increasing anxiety.

“If you want to bomb the Resistance, bomb the Resistance,” Kylo snarls in Hux’s face. “Just don’t test the weapons on First Order civilians.”

“Why the sudden compassion, Ren?” Hux’s cruelty is written, etched permanently on his once-handsome face.

“Are you so foolish, so desperate in your greed that you can’t see why testing our _own_ citizens is wrong?” Kylo demands, punching a gloved fist into the opposite palm. “Or are you so hopeful for a shred of power that you’d threaten the very people who you seek to rule?”

Hux pales at the accusation. “Supreme Leader, I—”

“Don’t you ‘Supreme Leader’ me, General,” Kylo snarls, pointing a violent finger at the other man. “I see you for what you truly are. A rabid cur, desperate for power and adoration, just as Snoke said.” Hux flinches, and the kinder, beaten-down part of Kylo—Ben Solo awakens again, the third time in a single day—flinches with him. Both men were taken in as young, vulnerable men, seeking an authority figure after being neglected by their respective families. The weakness Kylo is accusing Hux of is nothing he isn’t intimately familiar with.

Kylo breathes heavily through his nose, hand twitching to his lightsaber. He sees the lack of surprise on the gathered generals’ faces. No one will be surprised when he strikes this foolish, cruel man down. And, as he surveys the emotions of all gathered, he realizes that no one will really mourn either.

Something similar to grief, if that were still an emotion Kylo Ren could feel, rises in him. He purses his lips, and studies Hux’s resigned face. He sees the shadows carving Armitage’s face, the bags under his eyes, the slowly receding hairline. This job is killing him, between the stress of working with a volatile Force-user, and commanding troops to do his insidious, malicious bidding.

Kylo Ren decides. He will not execute Hux.

He will do something much worse.

“General Hux,” he says, drawing himself up to his full height, hand on his lightsaber, and chest out. The red-haired man cowers before him. “You are demoted. Return to your previous ship, and await orders.”

Hux swallows, eyes tightening. Kylo can feel the mutiny boiling in him.

“And, if you choose to waste this…opportunity,” he adds. “I will make sure every waking moment of the rest of your unnaturally prolonged life is defined by pain.” Kylo sends a wave of hatred and agony into Hux’s mind as a preview of the punishment for further insubordination. The former general collapses briefly, hands on the ground as he writhes. Kylo doesn’t even blink. “Am I understood?”

Hux gasps for air, and doesn’t move from his position, kneeling in submission. “You are understood perfectly, Supreme Leader,” he confirms through gritted teeth. “I thank you for your wisdom and kindness.”

Kylo waves a hand at Hux, the generals, the whole assembly. “You’re all dismissed.” He snaps. “I want a full report on the bio-weapons initiative in thirty minutes.”

Stormtrooper AN-1977 later tells MN-0983 that it was the first time he’d seen a meeting with Kylo Ren end with zero casualties. They consider changing the “Days Without Incident” counter in the breakroom to “One.”

***

Kylo spends the next score of days trying to clean up Armitage’s mess. His worst fear is, for now, unconfirmed—the fear that the deadly chemical had fallen into mercenaries’ hands. He personally visits the decimated villages, and feels the bile rise as he witnesses the scars left behind by his regime.

Long live the Supreme Leader.

Weeks, or maybe months, after Hux’s demotion, Kylo decides to change his plans and not accompany a fleet of TIE fighters traveling across the Ileenium system to join with transport ships. A disturbance in the Force tells him joining the fleet might not be the wisest decision.

Sure enough, he receives a report of Resistance fighters attacking the transports. Savage little pests, he thinks to himself. He catches a smile forming on his face as he imagines Rey taking on the role of soldier, of pilot, like she had that day on Crait.

Little scavenger, playing the hero. How perfect for her.

He’s closed the Bond on purpose over the last weeks, but now he’s tempted to take a peek, just to see if his mother risked the last Jedi’s life for this skirmish.

Kylo takes a seat in his chambers, rests his hands on his knees, and takes a deep breath.

He reaches out into the Force, re-opening the Bond.

A wondrous cascade of adrenaline and raw joy floods through him. The scavenger is flying, and flying _well._ He doesn’t dare appear, lest he distract her, but he allows himself to join with her emotions, the hum of excitement as she navigates the battlefield. He hasn’t felt this way since he first sat behind the controls of the Millennium Falcon on his father’s lap.

Kylo takes a moment, waiting for the crushing grief to weight upon him at the memory of Han Solo. It doesn’t come.

The exhilaration of Rey continues, and his guilt never arrives. Kylo smiles and settles further into his seat.

Minutes in, the Bond is laid open with fear. Panic and pain scrawl across the connection—he worries for a moment that she’s sensed him—and he hears, loudly, _Knight One Hit!_

Ben Solo erupts in concern, reaching through the Bond. He tries to push reassurance, confidence towards her, without intruding on her privacy. Rey must survive this. She must. If she dies, here, neither Ben nor Kylo will be able to push through it. Kylo Ren will destroy the galaxy he has failed to rule, failed to protect. Ben Solo will simply be destroyed.

The next hour or so is defined by decreasing agitation, and then exhaustion. Rey is alive. She will live to scold and tease and fight him again.

Kylo tries to close the Bond, and shut down the building presence of Ben Solo. But, Rey’s emotions continue to filter through, to the point that he can’t ignore them.

He gives in, and the Force drags him to her.

He’s standing in an emptied hangar, X-Wings’ engines steaming, and the distant whir of a fan cuts through the air. And then he sees them.

Kylo’s stomach twists into a knot that threatens to never be undone. Poe Dameron, uniform unzipped indecently, is crowding Rey against her T-65 as he kisses her. Their bodies are wrapped around each other, and the intensity of their embrace burns into Kylo’s mind.

 _She’s safe,_ crows Ben Solo.

 _She’s with him,_ snarls Kylo Ren.

The pilots part, finally, to breathe, and Poe says something that the blood pounding in Kylo’s ears won’t let him hear. He pulls back, away from the scene.

Not even half an hour later, the Force returns him to her. The Supreme Leader appears in a small utility closet that his faltering heart recognizes as Rey’s room.

Rey bursts into her closet.

Her face is red—no doubt from starving for air thanks to Poe Dameron’s stupid mouth—she touches her cheeks, tenderly. Her hand goes to her mouth, and she giggles.

Kylo distantly remembers begging the Force to let him hear her laugh once more. He wishes this wasn’t the price.

Still oblivious to his presence, she spins in a circle, an awkward and endearing motion. Ben clears his throat to alert her to his presence, and comments, “So, I guess you’re alright.”

He really shouldn’t be as amused when she trips and falls against the door.  

“Kriff!” Rey’s hand goes to her sternum. “Give me some warning next time!”

“Next time?” Kylo realizes that he’s smiling, through the ongoing splintering of his heart.

Rey sits fully to copy Kylo’s position.  “To what do I owe this pleasure, your Supremeness?” Her smile is as beautiful as it was the first time he saw it. He wishes he were the one responsible for the happiness in her eyes. He wishes she had let him kiss her, let him be the one to hold her close. He wishes she had accepted his offer of the galaxy. His offer of himself. He wishes.  

She’s waiting for a response. “I felt you take a hit,” he says by way of explanation. “You were frightened. I was worried.” Kylo feels no need to lie to her, even now.

Rey looks angrier than a wet Tooka. It shouldn’t be so adorable. “Well that’s not fair,” she snaps, in a most un-Jedi-like way. “You get such easy access to my emotions, my thoughts, all of it, and I haven’t heard from you in weeks!”

She had missed him. Ah. Kylo hadn’t planned on that. It doesn’t do anything to help his increasing exhaustion, his confusion from the happiness he feels for her safety, and the raging jealousy he feels for her misplaced affection.

Kylo chooses to defend himself. “I’m not trying to eavesdrop, Rey. I’ve been blocking the Bond on both ends. It’s been,” No, he can’t tell her of the First Order’s movements, the rectification he’s trying to make for its mistakes. “I’ve been distracted. By _something_. But when you took that hit, I felt it. I couldn’t ignore it. It felt like you were dying. Like I was dying.” He looks into her eyes, willing her to believe him. If she had died today…he isn’t sure what he would have done.

 _Darth Vader destroyed half the galaxy when his wife died._ He whispers it in his mind, and then prays she couldn’t hear it through the Bond.

Rey’s hand twitches, and Ben worries that she did hear it. He continues, trying to distract her while explaining himself.

“I felt you very strongly today. As it wore on, I knew you were okay, but the Bond kept trying to open again. I just gave in,” He is _not_ going to tell her what he saw, “and it brought me here, right before you walked in.”

“So…you’ve been connected to my emotions all day?” Rey asks. Not even a moment later, horror breaks across her face. “Which means you felt…”

“I don’t care,” Kylo dismisses her question. He can’t let her know how it's still threatening his sanity. “I don’t care about the pilot. I don’t care who you kiss.” He promised her nothing but honesty. This is a half-truth. He doesn’t care if she makes her own choices. He just wishes they were different choices, ones that involved him. Sighing, he admits his weakness to her. “You’re alright. You’re safe. That’s enough.”

The Bond disconnects them. He sits in his chair for hours after he leaves her.

 ***

In the middle of a debrief two weeks later, Kylo feels it.

Arousal and desire, mingled with  _victory_.

The scavenger has decided to seduce Poe Dameron. And Poe Dameron is hardly the kind of person to say no to such temptation. There are few who could.

Kylo excuses himself, and walks as quickly as he can to his quarters. He tries desperately to ignore the clenching in his lower stomach. The Supreme Leader barrels through Stormtroopers, who try to dive out of his path.

He reaches his quarters, opens the door, and throws himself onto his chaise, clutching the sides of his head.

He seeks annihilation, escape from this borrowed ecstasy, given to the woman he loves by another. He takes a deep breath, and cuts off the Bond as firmly as he can.

The Force grants him mercy, and the connection goes quiet. The fracture in his heart deepens.

Kylo’s been practicing his whole life for this pain. He will survive this.

If she chooses to lie with the pilot, that is her choice. He refuses to take her choice from her, as had been done to him so many times. There are worse choices she could make, to be sure; Ben Solo knew Poe Dameron, knew his kindness and gentleness, his loyalty. Poe will be good to the scavenger, in a way that Kylo Ren cannot be. 

However, Rey's destiny still ultimately lies with Kylo, regardless of who she entertains herself with in the meantime. The Force has shown this to him. He has seen the forest where their paths finally converge. He has seen the transformation. The Force does not lie.

He holds onto this belief, and holds tightly. It is the only way he can survive.

***

A month after he was alerted to her seduction of the pilot, the Bond pulls him back to her as she sits in a bed that is assuredly not hers. 

Poe Dameron shakes in her arms, hurtling towards the Dark side of the Force.

Rey looks at Kylo over her lover's dark curls. Her arm is bandaged, and her eyes are tired, accusatory. 

"How could you do this to him?" Her thoughts break through the Bond for the first time in weeks. "Ben, _how could you_?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Kylo
> 
> The foreshadowed angst will pay a visit to our darling couple in Chapter 19/20.


	19. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe has a nightmare; he seeks comfort in Rey (Poe POV)  
> Rey couldn't be happier with Poe; an accident causes her to re-evaluate her pilot's happiness (Rey POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG Warning: Poe has a PTSD flashback, and inadvertently hurts Rey. He does so trying to protect her from a perceived threat, and she will be fine, but he does not handle it well. 
> 
> Warnings: Dream sequence of fairly intense torture (Poe and Rey are both tortured, Rey is threatened by Kylo as he states his potential intention of turning her and then marrying her); Dream sequence featuring several implied deaths.
> 
> Another warning: Poe initiates sex with Rey while upset//explicit sex scene. If you want to skip, skip from the end of the dream (which is marked by use of italics) to the POV switch (indicated as always by **).

_“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance onboard.”_

_He’s been here before. Kylo Ren looms over him, mask hiding the familiar face, an unwanted mercy._

_“The Resistance will not be intimidated,” Poe spits. The sooner they get this going, the better. The torture is over, the ghosts of the interrogation droids’ tools still brushing his skin. Soon, Kylo will rip into his mind, take what he wants, and leave behind tattered remains._

_“That’s charming,” the mechanical voice says. “You think I meant you.” Poe’s heart stops. No. Not this. Not again._

_“Guards,” Kylo Ren calls. “Bring in our guest. Colonel Dameron might want to see her.”_

_The door hisses open, and two Stormtroopers march in, holding a spitting, bleeding Rey between them. Her hands are locked in metallic handcuffs that clearly can block the Force, as she’s not ripping the room apart._

_Poe shouts at them to let her go, his throat raw from his earlier screams, but his voice is drowned by Kylo’s cruel voice. “Set her down, here.” They throw Rey at Kylo’s feet, between the Supreme Leader and the restrained pilot._

_“So this is the jewel of the Resistance,” Kylo says, black boot tracing Rey’s side. She thrashes away from him, snarling. “Such promise in this one.” He looks at Poe, takes a small step forward, and raises a hand towards Poe’s temple. “What do you think, Colonel?”_

_“Get away from him, you monster,” Rey screams. Her foot lashes out, trying to make contact._

_Kylo freezes her with a flick of the wrist. Poe struggles against his restraints, sobbing from the futility._

_“Don’t touch her,” he begs, “Please, please don’t touch her.”_

_“I won’t,” Kylo Ren’s voice is soft and cruel. “I don’t need to touch her. Yet.” He raises a hand over her still body._

_Rey unfreezes, and then screams in agony. Poe loses count of the minutes, his throat threatening to close up from his repeated, hoarse demands for Kylo to stop._

_Finally, Kylo relents, cutting off the torture with an almost bored flick of the wrist._

_Poe still can’t move, can’t do anything as Kylo Ren crouches down next to the captive Jedi. He takes off his helmet, and Ben Solo’s face appears to torment Poe in a new way. There’s a terrifying hunger on his twisted face as he gazes down at Rey._

_“She’ll make a fine wife, don’t you agree? My Empress.” His gloved hand trails down her unconscious face. “Or—did you think she belonged with you?”_

_He looks up, the grin electrifying his scarred face. “You’ll never be able to save her. Not from me. Not from herself.”_

_Poe’s pulled away violently from the scene. He's in the hallway outside the hangar bay on The Raddus._

_Not another. No, please, please. Please don’t make him watch this again._

_Tallie smiles and waves at him from her cockpit. Kare jumps into her starfighter, stumbling when she accidentally catches her foot on the side. Jessika laughs at her from the ground. Yolo tosses him a jovial salute, calling out to him._

_The hangar in front of him collapses in fire, and his feet are frozen to the ground. He can do nothing to save his friends; they’re swallowed whole by flames._

_“Poe!” It’s Rey, racing towards him. But that doesn’t make sense. She was never on Raddus. “Poe! We need to help them!” She brushes past him, sprinting towards the still-open bay doors. At the last second, she turns to look at him, angry. “Why didn’t you help them?” Before he can stop her, she turns back around and runs into the inferno, the fire making short work of her body._

Poe jolts back into his body, gasping for air. The chronometer tells him that it’s only 0330. Rey sleeps peacefully in his arms, her body unbroken by torture, skin free from burns.

He thanks the Maker that he’s allowed to hold her at night. It’s the best reassurance that his nightmares had lied, and he can tell himself that _she’s okay, she’s alive_. Rey’s alive. She’s alive and she’s snoring. He loves that the last Jedi, the most powerful and perfect person he knows, snores like a congested Hutt.

When Poe wakes next to Rey, he can confirm that his galaxy remains safe, wrapped in his embrace.

The unfortunate part is that most nights, he startles awake so fiercely that it pulls Rey out of sleep as well.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart,” he will sometimes murmur against her skin, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.” She’ll murmur an acknowledgment on those nights, tilting her head up, eyes still closed, for a kiss. Poe always complies, kissing her as deeply as he can without fully waking her. As she drifts off again, he’ll kiss her hair, her forehead, whispering to her how wonderful she is. His heart will take another hour or so to calm, even with the Jedi breathing exercises, and he uses the time to listen to Rey’s heartbeat, steady and comforting against his own.

Those nights, Poe wonders if she even has bad dreams anymore, her countenance so often peaceful and undisturbed. If she suffers, she’s much better at hiding it than he is. It makes sense. She’s stronger than Poe.

Some nights, though, holding her isn’t quite enough. He’ll wake and not even her warm body next to his can convince him of her safety, of the reality of her continued presence in his life. Those nights, when Rey blinks up at him, hazel eyes blurred by sleep, he’ll take her chin in his hand and kiss her like the coward he is, running from his dreams. Always, each time, she responds enthusiastically, and she’ll let him touch her, she’ll agree to his touch and his body on hers.

Tonight is such a night, as he fights the terror back from his mind, trying to grab onto the happiness and peace that had been so easily within his reach most of his life. Rey wakes once more to his uneven breathing, and his terror from that vivid dream, where he was forced to watch her suffer over and over again, bleeds into the Bond, causing her alarm.

“Poe?” She asks him, her concern for him slipping into his mind. “Are you alright, darling?” He usually likes the endearment, but tonight it can’t distract him from the horrors his mind just offered him.

He shakes his head, voiceless for the time being. “Poe? Poe, darling, what is it?” He shakes his head once more, before clearing his throat roughly.

“Bad dream,” he whispers. “You were there.” He bangs his head back against the headboard. She deserves more of an explanation. He just isn’t strong enough to give it to her yet. He’ll tell her one day, hopefully soon, and hopefully she won’t recognize, finally, how broken he is.  

Rey nods, accepting his response in her infinite goodness, and he guides her onto her back so he can hover over her. His eyes flicker over her lips, and then down the length of her body, still bare to him from their coupling before they fell asleep earlier.

The question he puts forth into the Bond is met with a nod, and a watery “Oh, Poe.”

She accepts his kiss, warm and kind as ever. Within moments, he’s pressing against her, her body already ready for him from earlier, his blood suddenly singing with how much he wants her, how much he needs her.

Part of him worries that he’s tainting this, that she’ll one day interpret these stolen moments as merely an escape from his problems, and not his rebellious celebration that they’re still alive, a confirmation that she’s _safe_ and really with him, a reminder that  _this,_ this impossible joy, isn't the dream. But Rey opens so sweetly underneath him, sighing as he enters her, that his brain short circuits, and his worry drops away.

He focuses his entire attention on the woman underneath him, rocking into her gently, slowly. She wraps her legs around him, bringing him closer, the pain in his heart abating as she looks up at him with unbridled tenderness. Poe kisses every bit of her he can reach, hands running over her body, fiddling here and there with his nimble fingers, re-learning the paths he’s mapped patiently in the past weeks. Her moans of pleasure serve as his anchor to reality, and so does the tight, wet heat of her.

Poe adjusts his grip under one of her legs, sliding his hand to the back of her knee. He guides her leg to a different position, knee toward the mattress, her foot now near his head. Rey whimpers at the new angle.

 _You feel so good inside me,_ Rey says into the Bond. Poe moans in response, and thrusts harder. Her eyes close in pleasure, and he brings his hand down to help guide her towards her release. Rey flutters around him, his name a prayer on her lips, her ecstasy rebounding into him through their link, and Poe swears there’s nothing in the galaxy like it.

He brings her to climax two more times before he lets himself give in, almost pulled under by the intensity of it.

Poe pulls out and collapses on top of Rey, his head resting on her abdomen, the sweat sealing their skin together. She strokes his hair, and hums quietly. It’s Shara’s lullaby, the one he usually sings to her.

He finds himself crying against her stomach, and he loves her all the more when she doesn’t comment on it.

**

It’s been a month since she’s first seen Poe bared before her, felt all of him against her. The warmth in her chest promises to never leave.

After breakfast, Rey and Poe head out from the mess hall, together. Together. Rey will never get tired of the word. She has mechanic duty first thing today, helping the workers figure out some issue with a broken thrust capacitor, and Poe promised to walk her to her station before he’s due up at Command.

Poe is more cheerful, in the daytime. His face is open, lighter, seemingly unaffected by his nightmare from earlier this morning. Rey blushes slightly as she remembers how he’d pressed her into the mattress after he’d woken them.

Sensing her train of thought, Poe squeezes her hand, waggles his eyebrows, and winks at her. Rey laughs at the ridiculousness of his expression; he doesn’t seem to mind. He swings their hands between them as they walk, thumb irregularly stroking Rey’s palm. He’s whistling, now, a charming and cheerful tune that BB-8 tries to match from just ahead of them, a harmony that makes her face break into a stupid smile. As they near the hangar, they see Finn and Rose emerge from the other end of the hallway. Poe and Rey raise their clasped hands in greeting, and Poe takes the opportunity to kiss every one of Rey’s knuckles. She giggles, feeling happier than she’d ever thought possible.

At the door, Poe gives her his best dashing smile, which stalls her heart as usual, and places his hand on the sensor.

The hangar bay doors open, and Rey sees mechanics testing an experimental fix on an old engine about twenty feet away.

She senses what’s going to happen next, feels a hint of it through the Force before it happens. There’s a slip-up on the heat control, and the engine fuel ignites quickly, letting off an impressive, but generally harmless plume of fire. The flames are dazzling, orange and hot and prologned, and thankfully, no one’s in the way. The doors begin to shut, per protocol for a spike in internal temperature.

She doesn’t sense what will happen next.

Rey’s suddenly on the ground, slammed into it, head smacking against the floor and her arm twisting painfully under her. There’s a heavy weight on top of her, something around her head.

“Poe?” Finn’s shouting above them, voice blurred by…something. Why is Finn underwater? Rey blinks once, twice. Her head hurts.

“Poe? Rey?” Rose is there, too. Sounds are getting clearer, ringing in her ears.

Rey hears haggard breathing in her ear. The heavy weight blurs into a shape that she somewhat recognizes. She’s still confused. Why is Poe pinning her to the ground?

She shoves at him, trying to get him off of her so she can see if he’s injured. The Bond is shaking, maybe from the force of her fall, and Rey can’t get a clear thought through her own head, let alone read his thoughts.

“Stay down,” Poe gasps. “Stay down, soldier.” The pilot is tense, his arms bracketing her head. Rey struggles, trying to get him up so she can breathe a little better. Poe pushes her back down, and her side flares in pain. Beebee beeps worriedly from a few feet away.

The weight of Poe is gone, suddenly, and Rey sits up halfway, propped on an elbow, free hand rubbing her tender head.

Finn’s holding him upright. Poe is paler than she’s ever seen him. He’s staring at her. Even with her reduced ability to focus, she can tell that he doesn’t actually see her.

“Poe? Are you okay?” Rose asks him, gently.

“They’re dead,” he says brokenly. “They’re all dead. They’re all dead.”

The sentence repeats, over and over.

“Poe?” Rose says, her voice clearly anxious. “Poe, no one died. It was just an accident.”

“They’re all dead,” he whispers, eyes now staring through Rose, chest heaving as his breath comes in short, quick pants.

“No one’s dead,” Finn reassures him.

Rey’s thinking clearly enough now to realize that Poe can’t respond verbally. She reaches out through the Bond. His signature is still golden, but hazy, unfocused. There’s so much fear—coiling tight around him, choking off everything but his barest instincts, looping around something, some idea, that has him physically shaken.

Rey leans into the fear, absorbing it. She tries to disperse as much as she can, trying to effuse a sense of _calm_ and _safe_ into his Light. Poe grabs onto her lifeline, desperately, and it takes more strength than she thought she had to hold him back. He’s drowning, and she needs to save him.

They wrestle towards the surface together, Rey trying to keep up the flow of _safe, calm, happy, protected_ on the way. 

Poe blinks, slowly. His breathing hasn’t slowed, but he stops staring at Rose.

“No…nobody’s dead,” he says, making it sound like a question.

“You’re at the base. You’re safe. You’re with your friends. There was an accident. You’re at the base,” Finn lists the facts slowly, carefully, repeating them. Finn’s hand is on Poe’s shoulder, gripping it tight, providing a physical anchor. A couple of pilots round the corner, but they turn around quickly when Rose waves them off.  Poe continues to blink, eyes growing clearer, more present by the second. He bites his lip and nods at Finn.

“Nobody’s dead,” they say together. Finn puts both hands on his shoulders, and Poe grabs them with his own, thumbs sliding for purchase on his friend’s wrists. He’s coming back to them, but he’s shaking. And Rey wants to help.

Rey tries to stand, and hisses at the pain in her rib cage and wrist. She counts it lucky that she can feel the pain—it must mean her head isn’t injured too badly. BB-8 whirls over to her, asking after her health in Binary.

“Are you okay?” Rose asks her at the same time, anxiety still coating her voice. Rey starts to nod, but hisses again, the back of her head throbbing from the effort. She clenches her eyes shut and rubs at her temples, trying to clear the still-present ringing in them.

Poe makes a strangled noise. Rey opens her eyes to look at him; he’s staring at her in horror, obviously seeing her now. “Poe,” she cautions, raising a hand towards him, bridging the distance. “Poe, darling, I’m fine.” Poe’s head shakes, back and forth, constant and horrifying in its robotic nature.

The Force streams through him, and to her absolute horror, she feels the strain of Darkness beginning to press against him. Poe has never been anything but Light, clear and good and pure. The Dark beats against him, not entering his signature, but she sees it hovering, waiting like some parasitic monster, trying to leech the goodness out of him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Rey manages to get to her feet. She stumbles as she walks towards him, holding her ribs with her unhurt arm. “You were only trying to help, darling, it’s okay.” Finn pivots his body between them.

“Rose, can you get Rey to the infirmary?” He asks. His large body shields Poe almost entirely from view. The moan of terror can’t be concealed, though.

“Yes, yes of course.” Rose is at Rey’s elbow in an instant. “Let’s get you patched up, babe.”

There’s nothing Rey can do for Poe right now. Finn’s currently forehead-to-forehead with him, Poe clinging to him desperately as BB-8 waits solemnly at their heels. She lets Rose lead her down the hallway and to Medical.

***

Her wrist is bruised, and so are her ribs. It’s nothing so bad bacta can’t help it, and help it quickly. Her head is another matter—a minor concussion, the Medical Officer says, brisk and unattached—and may take a few more hours to heal with bacta patches lining her scalp over the damage. Rey waits in a private room, sitting upright in a sterile bed, for medical clearance.

While she’s been aware that he faces some unknown horror at night, Poe hasn’t shown her, through the Bond or otherwise, what causes him to wake up from dreams retching. What causes him to scream into his pillow. The reason he reaches for her so frequently. Now that she has seen that haunted look in his eyes, eyes suddenly sunken in his handsome face, Rey thinks she understands a little more. She thinks. Thinking is still a little difficult.

It had been the fire in the hangar bay that had upset him. Rey knows, through Rose, what happened when Kylo Ren’s fleet had bombed _The Raddus._ Seeing Poe panic like that tells her that this may be some of what haunts her pilot at night, when sleep evades him and nightmares come calling. She worries that she should have pressed him more for answers in the previous months, or even last night. She wishes she had done more than just meditate with him, hold him, allow him to make love to her in his attempt to beat back the fear. Maybe he could have shared this with her, and lightened the burden clearly threatening him.

She senses movement out of the corner of her eye. Rey turns her head, still slightly aching through the sticky cool of the bacta, and sees Poe, standing in the MedBay corridor, on the other side of the transparent divider. She smiles, happy to see him upright with more color in his cheeks. He rests his head against the glass, a broken, miserable expression cast over his handsome face. That’s no good. She raises a hand, beckoning for him to enter.

Of course, she’s forgotten the bacta-cast on her healing wrist, and it distracts her briefly. Rey cringes slightly at how it looks. She redirects her attention to her pilot, who’s suddenly ashen-faced again. She frowns, and tries to reach out to him through the Bond. The darkness is still there, testing his boundaries, sensing his weakness.

Jerking back as if shocked, Poe pulls away from the glass. He rests a hand against it, briefly, before swallowing hard enough for her to see from this far away. His hand clenches into a fist, a tic in his jaw working, and he turns on his heel, walking swiftly away from her room and out of sight.

Rey is left alone with her fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small rift opens between Jedi and Pilot. Can they repair it? 
> 
>  
> 
> (SPOILER: when they start /communicating/ with their actual words, they'll probably be okay)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I don't see how Poe wouldn't have suffered extremely from the deaths of his and other squadrons/the torture by Kylo Ren/ the destruction of the bombers and their crews. I intend to approach the subject with as much dignity as possible. 
> 
> I really, really hope the screenwriters intend to address the guilt/effect those deaths would have had on Poe. But, probably not, right?


	20. Breathe Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe struggles, but he's not alone as he thinks  
> Rey tries to comfort her pilot, and they receive an unwanted visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued depiction/discussion of PTSD. Poe experiences something similar to dissociation. 
> 
> Rey sees a memory of his torture.
> 
> And there's some blood
> 
> (Angst abounds)

Poe stumbles into his quarters. He briefly considers kicking the side of his bed, like a petulant child, but doesn’t have the energy to lift his foot that far.

The memory of Rey, swallowed by the bed in Medical, is going to chase him to the grave.

Poe wants to vomit. He _hurt_ her. He hurt Rey.

There's a knocking noise, coming from somewhere near the door. Poe barely registers it.

He’d snagged her chart from the nurse’s station on his way into see her. The words swim before his eyes, now.

_Bruised ribs, right side, 7-9_

_Bone bruise, right wrist_

_Concussion, mild_

He did that, to the woman he loves. Another crime to haunt him. He’s a monster, who hurts the people he loves. It’s the only truth he knows, right now.

The knock at the door is getting louder. Poe turns his head, slowly, to look at it. He’s almost confused by the noise. He’s supposed to do something, he’s sure. But, he’s half-in, half-out of his own head, standing in the middle of his room. There’s something he’s supposed to do.

There’s a hissing noise, and the door springs open. BB-8 zips in, chattering at him, asking why he didn’t respond.

Finn follows close behind. “Sorry man, I was willing to wait, but that kriffing droid hacked the door.” The man stops talking, abruptly. Poe sighs, and turns his head a little more to look at him.

His friend is staring at him. “Poe,” he asks, walking towards him slowly.

Poe doesn’t know why he looks so worried. Is the base under attack? He shivers. His skin ripples over his body, alien and unfamiliar.

The other man walks up to him, stands in his space. “Poe, where are you?”

“On base,” Poe whispers, his tongue thick with something heavy.

The man nods. “Good, good. Yeah, we’re on base. And who am I?”

Poe blinks. What a stupid question. He’s obviously talking to…Yolo? He shakes his head to clear the ghost. No. No, this is… “Finn.” Poe answers. It probably took too long, but Finn looks happy anyway.

“Great! Yeah, and you’re Poe. And everyone’s fine.” His hands are on his shoulder. Poe isn’t sure when they got there. He tilts his head. If only his eyes were working a little better, if he could focus on a single thing for a goddamn second. There’s a horrible wheezing sound. Why isn’t Finn asking about that?

Oh. It’s him. That’s why. Finn takes a deep breath. “Copy my breathing, man.” Finn suggests. “In for two,” he breathes, exaggeratedly. “Out for two.” He blows out, eyes trying to lock on Poe’s. Poe nods, grabs Finn’s forearms like he had in the hall…when he…no. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about Rey, lying in a hospital bed, probably hating him.

The two friends breathe together, in and out, in and out. Poe comes back into himself, more and more. As the numbness recedes, the horror of what he’s done, all that’s crashed into him today, rushes back.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” He asks, for something to say.

Finn’s grin is both bright and terribly sad. “Well, the First Order’s solution to any ‘malfunction’ was to throw us into reconditioning.” Poe remembers the blood-drenched chair he’d been locked into, the day he had met Finn. “Anyway, we saw a lot of shit when we were Stormtroopers. Screwed with a lot of our heads, made us see things that weren’t there, relive days of our lives we’d rather forget. Usually their cure was worse than the problem, so we figured out some ways to help it ourselves.”

Poe nods. “You fought your way through,” he says, admiring even in his full-body exhaustion. It’s another way that Finn is a better man than he’ll ever be.

“I’m still fighting,” Finn corrects, kindly. “But I don’t fight it alone. And you don’t have to either.” Poe closes his eyes against unbearable emotion. He’d almost rather have the numbness back.

“Look at me, Poe.” He obeys, because Finn’s done so much for him, and can’t he do this one thing right for him in return? He obeys, but it hurts more than he thought possible. “Poe, we had no idea you were going through this. We know now. We’re going to get you help.”

Poe’s pretty sure there’s nothing that can help him. But he lets Finn guide him towards the bed, and sit with him a little longer. Eventually, he asks Finn to leave, saying that he’s going to step into the ‘fresher.

He can tell Finn doesn’t believe him, but he’s glad that he pretends to anyway.

**

Poe is sitting on his bed, staring into space, when Rey arrives. She'd marched in there, fully intending to demonstrate how  _fine_ she is, how she'll be perfectly healed in a few hours, no harm done, no reason to fuss, Poe. Her intentions change immediately when she sees her pilot frozen, rigid, lost.

She sits down next to him, and tentatively reaches out to grab his shoulder. He turns to look at her, finally, and she feels a chill pass over her from his distant gaze.

“Come here, darling,” she says, stroking the sweaty, matted hair from his forehead. She won’t let him pull away. She’ll fight for him. For both of them.

Rey settles upright against the headboard, and spreads her legs, creating a space large enough for Poe. She beckons him over to her. Poe shakes his head, face twisting in a mockery of his smile.

“I can’t touch you,” he says. Rey feels the rejection shudder through her. Poe shakes his head, a little more himself at the feeling. “No, sweetheart. Not like that. It’s just…how can you let me touch you? I hurt you.” He closes his eyes and breathes out, distraught with guilt. “I hurt you, Rey. I shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.”

“Bullshit,” Rey retorts, simply. Poe cracks his eyes to look at her, as if looking at her straight on will burn him, like she’s the sun. “That’s bullshit, Dameron. I want to hold you. If you don’t want to touch me, fine, just tell me and I’ll drop it. But I’ve had a particularly rough day," it’s a cheap shot, she knows it, but she’ll do anything she can to get him over here, "and I want to hold my boyfriend.”  

She's never referred to him as her boyfriend before. It had seemed too small a word, before.

Poe doesn’t even try to smile; she thought he might at least try.

His eyes look supremely wounded, and he moves towards her the same way a frightened animal would. Poe crawls into her arms, and the Bond feels hollow, mirroring the emptiness inside of him. Rey senses something lurking in that emptiness. As she wraps her arms around him, she feels the hidden danger stir.

“How can you even look at me,” he says, after a moment.

“What do you mean?” Rey asks. She worries that she'll upset him, pressing him to talk. But she hadn't pushed before, and it hadn't gotten them anywhere good.

“I’m a fuck-up,” he whispers.

“Poe? Will you talk to me?” Rey strokes her hand over his head, through his hair, down his back. “Tell me, please.” Instead of leaning into the touch like he normally does, he lies there, still. Well. Almost still.

His shoulders vibrate with the barely-contained emotion. Rey holds him as best she can, trying to soothe him, but something in him erupts anyway.

The Bond vibrates in his agony, enveloping her, and without wanting to, without trying to, she feels the echo of the memory. It pulls her in, rapidly, against her will.

_You might wanna rethink your technique._

Rey gasps at the pain lancing through her head.

_The Resistance will not be intimidated by you._

Kylo Ren rips his mind, the mind of the man she’s fallen in love with, in half. She feels it now, the scar tissue left behind. The gutting loss of control. The strange sense of betrayal that his _best friend_ is doing this. The person he’d loved most as a child. Then comes the guilt from losing the battle of wills, from giving up Beebee’s position.

Another memory appears. It’s her own face, strangely mirrored behind another’s eyes. She looks brighter, more beautiful than she knows she ever possibly could. Her hair is soft and shining, and her eyes glow.

Rey realizes that this is how Poe sees her.

She’s smiling, sadly, in the memory, clutching her arms around her middle as they sit against Poe’s bed. “ _It was like my whole world had been ripped out from underneath me_ ,” her voice echoes in his mind, in the Bond. “ _I don’t know how, but they knew they needed BB-8. They knew where to find him. The entire outpost was destroyed. Everything I had ever known, gone.”_ She snaps her fingers. _“And then Kylo Ren put it together that Beebee had trusted me with the map, and he could use me instead.”_ She laughs again, sounding unamused _. “And use me he did. I guess the Force works in mysterious ways.”_ Rey recognizes the memory; they had this discussion about her sudden involvement in the Resistance a week after his thirtieth birthday.

She hadn’t known what followed. In Poe’s memory, she sees herself stand to leave after being called to Command by the General. In Poe’s memory, the door closes behind her, and Poe sits, reeling for excruciating minutes. Rage, nausea, self-hatred boil through him. One wins out, and he stumbles from his seated position, lurches into the ‘fresher, and vomits into the sink, clutching the sides of the basin. He hates himself, so much. He’d given everything to Kylo Ren, had exposed the most precious thing in the galaxy to his cruelty, because he was _weak._ The memory closes as Poe lifts his head to stare in the mirror. His eyes, almost unrecognizable in their disgust and anger, terrify Rey.

Rey crashes back into herself, the Bond recoiling. She gasps. “Poe,” she whispers. “Darling.”

He takes a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t have seen that.” He sounds tired, defeated.

“I didn’t mean to pry, my love,” she apologizes into his curls. “I’m sorry. The Force showed me, I didn’t mean to, not without permission.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Poe says, starting to sit up, lifting his head off Rey’s lap. “I should have been stronger.”

Rey tries to calm him, running her fingers through his hair, shushing him, softly. “You were so strong,” she corrects him, rubbing her hands on his back as he settles back down with a hurt noise. “You are so strong. Kylo Ren did this to you.” Poe flinches.

A minute later: “Ben Solo was my best friend,” he admits.

Rey knows. She’d just seen. She stays silent, and she lets him talk. Poe needs to talk this through.

“No. He was more than that.” He’s crying. She's never seen Poe cry. “Ben was my brother,” Poe sobs. “He was my brother, and I loved him.” Rey strokes his hair, trying to soothe him with the soft touch and the softer noises from the back of her throat. “How could he do this? How could he hurt those people?” He chokes on his anger. “Is it my fault?”

Rey vehemently, firmly, tells him, “No. No, Poe, there was nothing you could have done.”

“He broke something inside of me,” Poe confesses. “It’s broken and I don’t think I can fix it. I’m not strong enough to fix it.” Poe mourns in her arms, the grief as fresh as ever. His body is wracked with sobs, and she kisses his head as he cries. Borderline-hysterical, he says, “I’m b-broken, Rey. I’m the reason we don’t have a fleet. I’m…I’m the reason my friends are dead. Kylo started this, but _I’m_ the one who fucked up.”

Rey clutches him tighter to her, wills him away from the ledge in his mind. The Bond weeps between them as she feels his mounting fear. Poe Dameron shakes in her arms, falling apart before her eyes. He’s lost to her, lost to all sense, in his distress. The intensified grief and anger threatens to pull them both under, into the Dark.

She closes her eyes and summons what strength she has. She prays for a miracle from the Force like the one on _Starkiller,_ a miracle less physical, but still a miracle.

The Force ripples. Rey opens her eyes.

Ben Solo stands in front of her.

“How could you do this?” She thinks at him, not daring to speak. How _dare_ he appear now, return to the scene of his crime? Is he here to taunt his victim? “Ben, _how could you_?”

The former Jedi surveys her, and the sobbing man in her arms. He takes a tentative step towards the bed. “Is he hurt?” Ben asks, voice surprisingly emotional. He looks at her wrist, stares at the bandage there. “Are you hurt?’

“He loved you,” she spits at him in their own Bond, a perversion of what she shares with Poe. “He loved you, and you tortured him.”

“No.” Ben shakes his head, angrily. “No, that’s not true.” Rey shoves her doubt at him. He doesn’t even have the decency to flinch. “It’s not. I took him off Jakku, I didn’t torture him. I saved his life.”

“Spare me,” she thinks. “You ordered the deaths of the entire village that night.” Finn had told her, explaining his own grief, his own guilt, one night after weapons training.

Ben nods, solemnly. “War is ugly, sweetheart.” He half-smiles. She’s never hated him more. He flinches, finally, as he feels the wall of her revulsion slam into him. “That’s a little Dark, coming from you, Jedi.” He sneers the title, trying to maintain his bravado. “I expected more from you.”

“And I expected nothing less from you.” Rey is ashamed. Ashamed that she thought this man—this _boy_ who had killed his own father, a man she cared about, in front of her—could ever be saved. He murdered his father. He left his mother. He rejected her. He hurt this beautiful, sweet man in her arms. He’s hopeless.

“No, believe me. Please.” There’s that word again, the word she’s sure he never uses. “They were torturing him,” he says, wide-eyed and earnest like he’s never been before. “For _hours._ He was screaming, Rey. I could hear it through _durasteel._ He was never going to break. They would have killed him, tossed him out like garbage.”

“So you stepped in,” Rey thinks, her mind accelerating, catching a glimpse of what he’d done. Of what it had cost him.

Ben nods, stricken. “I knew I could get what we needed from him in less than a minute. I had to play the part. I didn’t realize…” He’s kneeling next to the bed now. Rey knows she should push him away, but he looks so intently at Poe, eyes bright with unshed tears, the soft light of Beebee’s charging station casting a shadow across his scar. “I never wanted for him to be in any pain. I thought if I stepped in, they’d stop torturing him. I didn’t know…I should have known. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He reaches a hand over Poe’s head, and it’s too much.

She knows he’s sorry. But Poe’s still shaking in her arms, the damage done, intentionally or not.

“Get out.” She says aloud. Poe stirs, slightly, drawing away from his own cavernous grief at her voice. “Get the fuck away from him.” Ben stands, opens his mouth to speak. Rey takes a hold of every inch of power and strength she has, and surges against Kylo Ren. “I said _get out!”_ she screams. The Supreme Leader, eyes still pleading, flies through the air. The second his back hits the opposite wall, he vanishes.

“Rey?” Poe is mostly back, now, sitting up fully. “Sweetheart? You’re bleeding.” He gestures at his nose. Rey wipes the back of her hand under her own nose. Sure enough, dark red blood stains her knuckles when she looks at them. It doesn’t seem that serious, so she chooses to ignore it.

“Was it him?” Poe asks, voice cracking on the question.

Rey nods. “Yes. He’s gone now. He won’t bother you again.”

“But he’ll bother you,” Poe mutters. He takes her hand, stares at the drying blood. “Kriff. Will he ever leave you alone?”

“I don’t think he can,” Rey says. Whether by choice or by the Force’s will, Ben Solo is determined to haunt her.

“I’m sorry,” her pilot says, shoulders drooping as he releases his hold on her hand.

“Sorry for what?” She asks, genuinely curious but also wary.

Poe stares at the wall, away from her. “The Bond never would have formed if he hadn’t gotten hold of you. If I hadn’t…”

“Poe,” Rey’s sharper than she means to be. “That’s not fair. Don’t do that to yourself.”

 “I just know that it’s my fault,” Poe repeats his earlier sentiment. Rey grabs both his hands, pulling on them so he looks at her, and he plows on anyway, the manic edge of earlier mounting in his voice once more: “Your Bond with that monster is my fault. Gods, I hurt you today. I keep hurting you. It’s what I’m good at. My friends died, and it was my fault. You should blame me. They probably blame me, wherever they are. I blame me, too.”

“Stop that,” Rey tells him forcefully. Poe tries to say something, but she cuts him off, pointing a finger at him as she speaks. “No. I won’t hear it. I know you need to work through this, and we’re going to do that. We’re going to get through this.” They have to. She needs him to get through it. She’ll help him however she can. “I’m not sure how, not yet, but we’re going to. You’re going to get through this. But you need to know—and I’ll remind you every day if I have to. You did not do this. You helped your friends. You led them. You made some bad choices, but you were trying your best.”

Poe scoffs. She continues, “You only ever try to help people, Poe. That’s what makes you _Poe._ You’re a good person. You’re a good person, and you’re going to survive this. Your friends would have wanted you to. They would have wanted you to survive.”

“You sound pretty damn sure of yourself, Sunshine.” The grin he shoots her is a shadow of what it could be, but she’ll take it.  

“I mean, I am a Jedi. Being wise comes with the territory.”

“Gods, they would have loved you.” Poe laughs, watery.  She kisses him on the lips, gently, and then moves to the side, gesturing for him to move towards the headboard. They arrange themselves, Poe against the pillows, and Rey under his arm. Every now and then over the next few hours, he’ll let out a few more tears, breath still shaky in his lungs, heartbeat still wild. Rey hums to him in the quieter moments, and he whispers stories about his childhood at certain points of the night, pressing a kiss into her hair every so often.

At dawn, Poe falls asleep with Rey in his arms. His Force signature flags, exhausted, but still gold. Still Light.

Hope lives on, another day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was 6.5 pages of angst, and fairly difficult to write!
> 
> I tried to make Poe's reaction to his flashback as realistic as possible, based on past experience. It could definitely come off as disjointed, for which I apologize.
> 
> Fluff and nice things will return in the next chapter. Thank you for holding on through the Age of Angst!!


	21. exe.Edit_Designation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe share a moment together; Poe and Finn have a talk; BB-8 misunderstands; Rose is amused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about some fluff for what ails you?

Rey wakes up at 1430, which is a rarity. Leia had insisted on the extra sleep, catching her arm on the way out of Medical yesterday.

 _Take the day off and rest, Commander._ The older woman told her, solemn and kind. _Both of you. That’s an order._

She stretches lightly, feeling the beginning of hunger pangs in her stomach. She can ignore it for now, nestled comfortable and warm in her favorite place in the galaxy, here in Poe's arms.

She hasn’t ever woken up before Poe. He’s a light sleeper—and she understands why, now, almost hates that she understands—and it’s wonderful to see him so peaceful.

Rey takes a moment to marvel at the beauty of Poe Dameron. His dark eyelashes rest against his cheekbones. The months indoors have done nothing to rob his skin of its golden tone; it’s just a little lighter than normal. Poe’s beard is beginning to grow in, and Rey resists the urge to lift her hand, to run a knuckle along his jaw so she can feel the scruff on her skin.

Rey breathes deeply, breathes in Poe, breathes in the smell of ozone, of forests and stars, of the generic soap they use on Base. He smells like home. 

Last night was the first night in a month that they’d spent together without having sex. She doesn't have a problem with that, not at all; in fact, she'd never felt closer to the pilot. It had taken so much for him to open up to her. She wishes she had the words to tell him how much he means to her, how much she loves him. 

Rey tilts her head back to look at him better, and then winces at the crackle of bacta on the back of her head. Right. She'd never cleaned it off last night. She shifts, and Poe wakes at the sudden movement, blinking blearily at her. 

"Morning, Sunshine," he mumbles. Poe turns to lie on his side, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her close to him. He nuzzles her hair, and Rey smiles into his collarbone. 

"Morning, Poe." He smiles against her forehead. 

She wiggles against him, and enjoys the short intake of air from the man beside her. "Feeling better?"

"Mmm," he mutters. The Bond ripples with discomfort. He's clearly still feeling poorly. Rey shakes her head, and decides the feeling of bacta on her scalp isn't something she can live with.

"I'm going to step into the 'fresher," she announces, disentangling herself from Poe's embrace. He makes a small sound of protest, grabbing at the empty sheets before pouting and turning over onto his stomach. "I could use some company, though...?" She trails off, trying to make the invitation as obvious as possible. Poe doesn't say anything, still lying on his stomach, so Rey rolls her eyes and walks into the 'fresher by herself. Rey leaves the door open, just in case.

Once inside, she strips down as quickly as possible, tossing her clothes into the corner where they won't get wet. The bacta-cast on her wrist is congealed under the wrap, and she wants nothing more than to be clean. She turns on the water as warm as it will go, and stands under the showerhead, letting her eyes flutter shut, basking in the feeling of clean water as she wipes the stress of the previous day away with a washcloth.

There's a small sound at the corner of the room. 

Rey cracks an eye open and sees Poe standing in the doorway, staring at her. He's shirtless, ring resting in its usual place on his chest. Besides the necklace, the only thing he's wearing are his brown military-issue pants. _It's a good look for him._ His eyes take in her profile, hungrily. 

Rey continues to clean her body, feigning disinterest. "Enjoying the view?" She asks, archly, wiping over her forearm slowly.  

“You can’t blame a guy for looking at his girlfriend.” _So he did hear her last night_ , Rey thinks, amused. “I’d have to be dead not to have heard that, sweetheart.”

“Are you going to keep reading my mind, or are you going to join me and do something about it?” Rey turns away from him, giving him an unobstructed view of her back. When she feels his eyes sliding down her body, interest increasing every second, she looks back over her shoulder at him.

Poe stands in the entrance, still, pupils blown, bottom lip between his teeth. He’s gripping himself over his pants, erection obvious through the brown material. The sight sends a coil of heat into Rey’s stomach.

She crooks her finger at him. “Come here,” she commands. “I need to clean this shit out of my hair, and you just standing there won't help.”

"Roger that, Commander." Poe undoes the fastening of his pants with one hand, the other reaching for his necklace, pulling the chain up and over his head so he can leave the ring on the sink.

His fatigues hit the ground almost without a sound, and he kicks out of them. Rey feels frozen in the magnetic pull of his brown eyes as he stalks forward, naked, the urgency he feels apparent in each step. It's a matter of seconds before he stands behind her under the water. 

"There's so much of this in here," Rey complains, facing away again, trying to pull the bacta out of her scalp, trying to ignore the flush of lust calling for her to climb the man behind her and never come down. "Honestly, it's a mess."

Poe takes a deep, shuddering breath, but doesn't touch her. Rey turns around so they're facing each other under the stream of the 'fresher. 

Water slides down Poe's face, catching on the tip of his strong nose, flattening his curly hair. He looks at her, half in lust, half in something like regret. "I don't know if I'm strong enough," he begins slowly, clearing his throat before re-directing the thought. " I don't know how you can let me touch you."

"Like this," Rey says, simply. She appreciates that he's trying to communicate with her, but she knows he's like her, that he prefers actions to words most of the time. Rey grabs his large, work-roughened hand in her own, and places it on her breast, unashamed of her boldness. Poe moans, a noise of near-desperation. When he looks up and she sees his face, Rey's heart skips once, twice, from the intensity of his desire for her. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispers, hand subconsciously moving over her skin, beginning to pull and stroke in the way he's learned that she likes. 

"You won't," Rey promises him. "Don't worry about me. I can handle myself, Poe. And I trust you." 

He nods, voice gone for the time being, and then surges forward to kiss her. Rey sighs into it, hands going to his hair. They press together under the water, mouths sliding over each other, tongues brushing against lips and behind teeth. Poe's hands stroke her side, her back, her shoulders. One goes to cup her jaw, the way it always does when he wants to pull her in deeper, and the other comes up to her scalp. Poe laughs, suddenly, breaking the kiss. "There is a lot of that shit in there," he remarks, nose crinkling slightly in mild disgust. "Here, let me help you." He gestures for her to turn around, reaching for the soap at the same time. "Close your eyes, sweetheart." 

Rey leans her head against the wall of the 'fresher Poe's fingers begin to pull through her hair, working the lather through her scalp. He guides her out from under the water to scrub at the bacta, one hand resting at the base of her neck, massaging the muscles there as his other continues to drag the shampoo through her hair. He pulls her back under the water to rinse the soap away, steadily weaving his hands in and out of her tangled locks. 

Rey has never felt so cared for her in life. She notices a slip of how much she cares for him, how much she wants him, leak into the Bond. 

"There you go," he says, helping her straighten up. He wipes her face near her eyes to clear any residual soap. "Good as new," he declares, a rough edge in his voice. 

Rey kisses him again, as deeply as she can. "Colonel," she pulls back so he can look her in the eyes. "Take me to bed."

"Yes ma'am." Poe grins, a real, full Dameron grin, and grabs her behind the knees to hoist her up. Rey laughs into his mouth, wrapping her legs behind his back as he hip-checks the 'fresher off. 

He strides from the bathroom, eyes burning as he looks up at her. 

They don't quite make it to the bed. 

 

**

Poe’s shoulder to shoulder with Finn at the range the next day.

Finn’s terrifying with a rifle, and his deadly accuracy and almost cold calculations help him maintain the highest shooting score on base. Poe's a little worried about what Finn might do with that blaster considering how much he disapproves of him and Rey.

They don’t talk for their entire session, but as they leave, Poe knows he needs to say something.

“I know you think I don’t deserve her,” he begins, “and you’re right. But I’m going to try. I’m going to try to get better, for her.”

“Switch off,” Finn snorts, slotting his practice rifle into the armory droid’s arms. “Of course you’re going to get better. But for you, and not for anyone else.”

Poe hums in agreement. “Yeah. But all the same, I get it. I get why you think I’m bad for her. But she wants to be with me, for whatever reason, and I’m definitely not going to fight her. Not when she’s the best thing in my life.”

Finn stops, and Poe stops with him, bracing himself for a fist to the jaw, or at the very least, another stern talking-to.

"You're an idiot, Dameron," Finn settles on a simple insult. Interesting. "An absolute idiot."

"I know that, but why this time?"

"I’m not trying to say you don’t deserve her. That’s a load of bullshit. But, I am going to keep protecting Rey, because she's like my sister. She  _is_ my sister. I love her, and I want to protect her, even from my friends. Even from you. But yeah, you make her happy, dumbass. Keep making her happy, and we won't have a problem."

Poe nods, feeling unbelievably grateful for this change in Finn's perspective. 

As if sensing Poe's surge of hope, Finn moves quickly to squash it. "But don't think this 'acceptance'--" _Were the air quotes really necessary?_ "--of your relationship means I'm just going to let it go, either," Finn warns. "You get a brief reprieve, after yesterday. But I'm not going to let you live down nailing my sister. Nuh-uh. It'll be war soon, buddy." The ex-stormtrooper grins, an evil thing, slaps Poe on the shoulder and walks away, an undeniable jaunt to his step. 

Poe can't even begin to fathom what _that_ might mean. 

***

He finds out soon enough.

A week later, Poe walks up to Finn in the canteen, whistling obnoxiously.

Finn raises his eyebrows at him. “Had a good morning?” he asks sardonically.

Poe nods, not even trying to hide the proud grin on his face. He had gotten Rey to finish _five_ times after morning reveille, despite her protest that they didn’t even have time for the first two orgasms. He’d gotten her to come the first four times with just his fingers and mouth, before slipping into her, Rey barely coherent from the pleasure. It’s a new record for them, and it’s a record he looks forward to beating.

Poe's still whistling when something zaps the hell out of him.

"Ow!" He leaps in surprise, and looks down. "Beebee, what the hell, buddy?"

BB-8 whirs at him angrily. [You did a bad thing, Master Poe!] it beeps. [You hurt Rey, Status: Hero-And-Savior!] Poe's heart stops. His breakdown, Rey's injury, had been six days ago--why is Beebee just now realizing what he had done? 

"Buddy?" He asks, weakly, "what are you talking about?"

[I heard you!] the droid trills. [I heard her crying this morning!] Poe's a little less confused now, and is feeling a little more like he wants to sink into the floor and vanish forever. 

[She was making sounds of distress! Rey, Status: Hero-And-Savior was in pain! And you were causing it! Finn, Status: Buddy told me!] Gods, there are heads turning towards them now. Finn looks positively wicked in his happiness. 

"Now, I don't know what you think you two heard," Poe says, yanking on his hair nervously. Kriff, there's no good way to phrase this, is there?

[I know what I heard, Master Poe. I have a record of the audio from your interaction! Do you want me to play it back?] People are _definitely_ watching now. 

"No!" Poe shouts, "No! Definitely do _not_ do that. I didn't....I didn't do anything to her, Beebee, you gotta believe me!"

[Poor Rey, Status Hero-and-Savior! You did a bad thing!] Beebee rolls forward, waving its mecha-prod threateningly.  

"It wasn't like that, Beebee," Poe insists. This is not going to end well. "We were...we were..."

[What is the matter, Master Poe?] Beebee runs into his leg. [What were you and Rey, Status: Hero-And-Savior doing? You must tell BB-8!]

“Yeah, Poe, tell him,” Finn goads. “Tell the little guy what you were doing with its favorite person in the galaxy. Tell Beebee how you were f—”

“Making love,” Poe interrupts, loudly, desperately, within earshot of at least fifteen of his cadets, trying not to corrupt his droid but probably permanently losing any reputation he may have had as a Rebel badass.  He waves his hands in the air, awkwardly, emphasizing his words. “We were making love, Beebee.”

The droid tilts back, visual unit eyeing Poe, adjusting rapidly. The part of him that’s always imagined Beebee as a tiny person can almost see its eyelashes fluttering, hand pressed to chest.

The internal drive on BB-8 whirs to life, and unintelligible beeps emit from the unit. It rocks back and forth, uncontrollably. “Beebee?” Finn asks, poking him with his boot. “You okay, little guy?”

[I am perfectly operational, Finn, Status: Buddy!] it chirps. [I am merely updating the designation of Rey, Former Status: Hero-and-Savior in my database!]

Poe looks at it, aghast. “I didn’t give you a command to do that, Beebee.”

[No need, Master Poe! My protocols are perfectly clear. Rey, Former Status: Hero-and-Savior has now been updated to Mistress Rey in all my databases!]

Finn roars with laughter, as Poe swoops down, running his hand over his droid’s shiny dome, poking at random panels. “What? No! No, buddy, I did not ask you to do that! Undo! Undo!”

[My apologies, Master Poe!] Beebee doesn’t sound sorry in the least _,_ the little bastard. [All changes are permanent until an essential event requires a new designation!]

“I’m asking you to change it! Isn’t that essential?” Apparently it isn’t.

He and BB-8 argue back and forth for almost ten minutes before Poe needs to report up at Command.

Beebee refuses to change its mind, but Poe manages to convince it to not address Rey by name, unless absolutely necessary.

**

Rose is resting her feet in the middle of her shift when something very interesting happens.

Beebee rolls up to Rey and bounces against her feet while she works.

“Hi, Beebee,” she coos, bending down to rub its belly. “How are you today, you clever thing?”

BB-8 hoots back at her, happily. It parks itself a few feet away to watch Rey as she digs around in the engine of a starfighter she’s salvaging.

It’s just as lovestruck as its master, and Rose watches, amused from the corner.

A few minutes later, BB-8 starts to sing, a mechanical ditty that has Rose raising her eyebrows in recognition. It goes on and on, getting louder and louder, until Rey pops her head back out of the engine.

“That’s an awfully long song, sweetheart,” she calls, thermal wrench still in hand. “Where’s it from?”

BB-8 beeps: [It’s from Yavin 4!] Rey shrugs, accepting the answer as she returns to her work.

Beebee goes back to singing.

Because she had attended a traditional ceremony at The Great Temple on Poe’s home moon with Paige a few years ago, Rose was immediately able to recognize the distinctive Yavinese wedding march.

Rose leans back, already planning on how to tell Finn about this new development.

This is going to be fun.


	22. A New Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe goes to therapy; Rey studies the sacred Jedi texts and receives a visit; Poe and Rey spend time together before her upcoming solo mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Smut Warning* (After Rey's Jedi Text POV Scene, it's just all general smut (oral, etc.) from there)
> 
>  
> 
> (Poe is a bit dominant, just a heads up)

The same day Beebee changed Rey’s designation without permission, Poe’s schedule was changed by Leia Organa to reflect his mandated therapy sessions. For an hour every Centaxday, he is to sit in a small office in a corner of the base, and speak with Dr. Kalonia.

They’ve had seven sessions together since his breakdown. He’s had three flashback episodes—which is what the doctor calls them—eighteen panic attacks, and 26 nightmares since the day he injured Rey.

They talk about a lot of things—about Kare, Yolo, Jessika; about Leia and Han; about his parents; about losing friends in battle; about his difficulty responding to orders he deems unfit—and they never talk about Ben Solo. They sometimes talk about Rey. Usually Poe’s the one to bring up the subject of Rey, because he talks about Rey a lot anyway, and he figures it serves as the best distraction from the screaming panic that builds up inside his chest during the hour he sits there, wasting Kalonia’s time, wasting the General’s time, wasting everyone’s time.

Today, Dr. Kalonia brings her up first.

About twenty minutes into the session, she asks: “How do you feel, knowing that Rey will be leaving for a mission tomorrow?”

“How did you know that?” Poe feels his entire body tense. He doesn’t want to talk about it. _Breathe, buddy._ He exhales, slowly. If he doesn’t want to talk about something, that probably means he should. Which is the sort of weird logic that leaves him very tired after these appointments.

“It’s my job to know things.” Poe must not look amused, because the doctor adds, “And the General told me. She was worried about you.”

Poe shrugs. “She’s Rey. She knows what she’s doing. It’s not like I can lock her up in our room and never let her off-base.” Poe’s heart does something strange when he says _our_ room. It’s unofficial, but that’s what it’s become.

“Is that something you’ve thought about doing?” When Poe doesn’t respond, the doctor patiently clarifies, “You’ve thought about locking her up so she can’t leave?”

“What? No!” Poe feels angry at the implication. “I don’t own her.” Revulsion passes through him as he thinks about the large brand scarred onto Rey’s hip. _But I wouldn’t mind it if I knew where she was, how she was doing, even when I can’t hear her in the Bond._ Poe picks at a loose thread on his pant leg, as he admits, “I just wish I could get her to be a little safer, take less risks. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her.”

“It’s completely fair to feel that way, Colonel. You’ve been through a lot, lost a lot of people.” The doctor looks at him, steadily, and as much as it hurts him to, Poe returns the gaze, biting his tongue for now. “But it’ll be good for you to start recognizing that what Rey does, and what happens to Rey, is not under your control. She makes decisions for herself. Most people do. You need to start giving up control in some parts of your life, or it will always feel like your fault when things don’t go as planned.”

Poe looks back down at his lap. He wishes he were anywhere else but here. The doctor waits a moment, but Poe has nothing to say. The older woman sighs, and then continues with a question:

“How do you plan on saying goodbye? How do you plan on letting go of a major support in your life, so that she can go and risk her life far away from you?”

Poe laughs bitterly. “We’ll do what we always do. Rey will pretend that it definitely might not be the last time, that it isn’t even goodbye, and I’ll beg her to come back because all I’ll be able to do is assume that it’s the last time. And the whole time she’s gone, I’m going to be sitting here, begging the Force to bring her back, waiting for bad news, wondering what’s going to happen.”

Dr. Kalonia stares at him, expression unreadable. After several long, uncomfortable moments, she says, “We never know what’s going to happen next, Colonel Dameron. All of this could be gone in seconds. That’s something that you, unfortunately, have been aware of since a very young age. But instead of letting it pull you down, take it for what it is. Accept that there are things out of your control, and the only thing you can control is how you respond to that knowledge.”

She leaves him with: “Don’t let fear of losing her keep you from sharing everything with her. Or she’ll be gone before you know it, and not in the way you expect.”

**

Rey stares at the text in her lap. She’s been at this for hours, meditating and waiting for answers from the Force.

The sacred Jedi texts have some repetition of the same phrases, the same code.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

It’s all well and good, and it’s served the Jedi for millennia, but Rey can’t help it.

She thinks it’s a load of bullshit.

How could the Force demand these absolutes from people?

She thinks of the chaos of a marketplace, of the canteen at lunch break, of the hundreds of souls pressing together in a limited space—it had once caused her anxiety, the roar of it, but now she often feels at peace there, hiding in the noise, joining the harmony of the Force.

She thinks of how little knowledge she has about so many things, and she feels joy at the lifetime of new experiences that waits for her.

She thinks of the moments of serenity she feels, caught up in Poe’s embrace, wild with desire and something that’s doubtlessly passion.

She thinks of the love that beats, pure and strong and unique, inside of her for each of her friends, for Chewie, for Beebee, for Finn, for Rose, for the General, and for _Poe._ Her sweet, wonderful Poe who has stirred to life such powerful emotions inside of her, which all ultimately lead to a sense of peace, of understanding, of acceptance. She looks at Poe, and knows that she doesn’t own him, and never could. She looks at Poe, and knows she belongs with him. Poe is a guiding star in the night sky, the beacon that calls her home. Poe is golden light that sings to life the hope that beats inside her chest and pushes her forward, towards a better vision of their future.

She thinks of the sympathetic love she feels for Ben Solo, a love so hurtful after all these weeks of mistakes and pain. The hope in her heart that feels so much like ignorance, the chaos and confusion that accompanies it. Rey doesn’t know why she’s so drawn to the tragic figure, why her heart begs her to help him, to bring him back to the Light; she worries that it’s the Force reminding her of their similarities, reminding her of her own potential for Darkness.

The Jedi Code does nothing to help her make sense of any of it.  

The young woman bangs her head into the desk she’d made out of sheet metal. _Thwack._ Great. Now her head hurts for two reasons.

“Any harder and you’re going to put a dent in that.”

 _Now is not the time, Solo._ Her ever-present shadow stands in the corner of the room when she lifts her head.

She hasn’t seen him since she violently threw him from Poe’s room. He looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes reaching depths she hadn’t thought possible.

“You called me here, Scavenger.” Ben stands oddly still, as if aware a sudden movement could frighten Rey, or, more realistically, inspire her to violence.

“We don’t have a whole lot to talk about, Your Supremeness.” He shrugs.

“The Force disagrees.”

“Well, maybe I disagree with the Force.” Rey drums her fingers against the texts impatiently.

 _What do you mean?_ His voice echoes in her head, and she blinks to clear it.

Ben Solo is the last person alive who officially studied the way of the Jedi, and is around to talk to her about it, so she sighs heavily, briefly setting aside the anger she feels towards him for his treatment of Poe (It helps that Poe would completely support her decision to get answers, she tells herself).

“I’ve read these texts a hundred times,” she explains. “And I keep getting the same feeling of them being _incomplete._ They don’t tell me anything new, and what they do tell me is confusing, and honestly goes against everything I’ve learned.”

“So, they’re wrong,” Ben looks perfectly at ease with the dismissive statement. “They don’t have to be right, just because they’re old and the Jedi believed them. The past doesn’t always offer the answers we want.”

_Let the past die. Kill it. If you have to._

The memory of his declaration hums through her. He must catch onto it because he shakes his head before saying, “It doesn’t have to be that extreme. You shouldn’t have to listen to something you don’t believe in. From me, or from the _Jedi._ ” He spits out the title with more venom than necessary, considering how softly he’d been speaking before.

Rey looks at him, unspeaking. Ben shifts on his feet, and then steps forward, walking towards her slowly. Rey’s frozen to her seat as he approaches. But, all he does when he reaches her is stroke a finger down the spine of one of the books.

“If you think they’re wrong,” he says, quieter than a whisper, “you should tell the galaxy why. Write it yourself. It’s your destiny.”

Rey thinks for a moment that he’ll redirect, raise his hand to stroke her face, her hand, anything, but he’s gone before she can even decide if she’ll bite his hand off for it.

In the quiet moments that follow, Rey thinks about what Ben had suggested.

_It’s your destiny._

The Force surges around her, skirting her nerve endings, settling along her spine, sparking something to life deep inside her mind.

Rey grabs a pen, a piece of parchment, and begins to write.

_"In emotion, there can be peace, if the Force wills it."_

**

***

Rey leaves for her top-secret mission later today, and Poe’s trying to figure out how to tell her how badly he wants her, how much he wants to let her in, to share everything he has with her. Dr. Kalonia’s suggestion from yesterday’s session had sunk deep into his bones, and he knows he needs to see it through. No time to waste.

But first, Poe just wants to spend the day in bed with her.

And Rey, as always, has other plans.

“Do you want to go get some food?”

_Gods, you’re always hungry._

Rey makes a face. “I am not _always_ hungry! I’m just peckish!” She goes to grab the box of snacks Poe’s hidden under his bed for her, completely unaware that Poe’s frozen behind her. She turns back around, clutching a Muja fruit when she notices him. “Poe? Are you okay?” She probably thinks he’s having another flashback, judging by the extreme worry that flares up between them.

“I’m…fine,” he says, the wheels of his brain still spinning quickly. “It’s just. I didn’t say that out loud.”

Rey’s eyes widen. “Oh!” she breathes. “Oh! I heard you! I heard what you were thinking!”

Poe laughs, nods. She can hear him. She knows what he’s thinking. He’s been able to hear her for weeks, and now she can hear him. Something between them, the obstacle that was blocking her from hearing him, is gone, and Poe feels lighter than he has in years. She can hear him.

_Kriff. Now you’re going to know that I think about you naked every five seconds._

“I already knew that, Colonel,” Rey teases. Her eyebrow lifts a second later. “And now I know how much you like it when I call you Colonel.”

“Smart mouth,” he scolds. Gods, he wants her. “And what am I thinking now?” Poe asks, purposefully putting more strut in his step than usual as he walks over to Rey, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Rey’s face turns a darker pink. “A suggestion for how I could better use this smart mouth.”

“Mmh,” Poe stands in front of her. “And is that agreeable, to the lady?” He moves in slowly, giving her time to duck away, always hesitant, always just a little dumbfounded that she wants him, too.

She tips her head up to kiss him, sweet as anything. Poe can feel the path of the next hour or so shift, if she’s going to kiss him that sweetly, that innocently. He’s more than fine with a quieter, tender pace.

That thought disappears quickly as Rey pulls back, and her hand comes to tangle in his curls. She pulls, sharply, and Poe’s harder than he really should be at this point, clothes still on, and with less than ten seconds of physical contact.

“Your idea’s fine,” she smirks. Rey leans in to kiss him on the neck. Poe wants to howl at the way her teeth nip down, lips brushing away the sting after she bites him. “But my idea’s better.”

Pushing him firmly, Rey kisses down his neck in the same untamed fashion as they walk backwards, and Poe’s back hits the wall near his bed. He gasps as she moves down his chest, creating a trail of burning skin along his sternum, his stomach, and—Poe makes a noise he can’t even name as Rey sinks to her knees, small hand working at the button on his pants.

“You don’t have to do that, Sunshine,” Poe mutters, face and body on fire.

“I know I don’t have to,” she grins, and Poe’s brain whites out at the sight of her in front of him, smiling, and stroking him over his briefs. “But I want to.” _Is this okay?_ comes her concerned query over their link.

Poe nods, thinking, _Yes, yes, of course yes, do whatever you want with me, sweetheart._

“I really want to do this,” she murmurs. He can feel the truth of the statement resound strongly in the Bond.

He’s grateful she had the presence of mind to push him against a wall because the second she takes his dick out of his pants, he forgets everything else in the entire world, except for Rey, her hand, and her stupid, smart mouth as she tries to take him to the root immediately.

Poe yelps, one hand going to brace against the wall—the only thing keeping him up—and the other going to Rey’s jaw, fingers slipping around to grip the back of her neck.

She coughs lightly, and pulls off. “Too much?” she asks, hoarser than normal. Great, now Poe’s _never going to be able to think about anything besides the way her voice sounds right now_.

“I’m sure you’ll think of plenty other things,” Rey soothes. “But I guess I should start slower?”

 _Do whatever you want,_ he says, again. He uses his thumb to trace circles on her jaw. _Well, just don’t use your teeth._

Rey laughs. “I know that much, flyboy.” She strokes him a couple times—Poe’s eyes roll into the back of his head—and then returns to the task at hand.

Colonel Poe Dameron—pride of the Resistance Navy, celebrated, talented tactician and decorated soldier, number one fighter pilot in the galaxy for almost an entire decade, survivor of multiple First Order interrogations—is absolutely wrecked by a sweet-faced girl from Jakku in less than a minute.

He’s never, ever going to doubt the Force’s plans for him again. Rey wipes her mouth, daintily, as if she hadn’t just completely rewired Poe’s brain, and sits back on her knees.

“Was that okay?” she asks, blinking up at him.  Poe’s still gasping for air, knees threatening to collapse underneath him, shirt unbuttoned and pants undone. He’s debauched, and he couldn’t be happier about it.  

He grins at her. “What do you think?”

Rey jumps to her feet and beams, incandescent in her pride. Poe feels the galaxy shift around him as he stares at her, knowing that if she asked him for anything, anything imaginable, he’d die trying to give it to her.

She quiets, sensing the intensity of his mood. “Poe?” He just needs a second to memorize this, memorize her face, her smile that still hangs on her face, even as she waits for him to say something.

But it's just hit him, again. Rey’s scheduled to leave in just a few hours. They have to attend a briefing at 1830, and then she leaves.

**

Poe is staring at her, and Rey’s getting a little worried. Rose had mentioned that men got a little quiet after _that,_ but Poe this quiet is rarely a good thing.

“Poe?” She asks, again, hoping to snap him out of it.

 _Lie down on the bed._ His unspoken order courses across the Bond. Rey’s eyes flutter shut. Poe’s voice inside of her is the most strangely intimate thing she’s ever experienced. His voice sounds more _Poe_ this way.

 _Please?_ He’s waiting, unsure of how bossy he’d been a second ago.

Rey smiles, and sits down on the bed. She pats the mattress next to her, wondering if he’ll join her.

 _Lie back,_ he thinks. Rey slides on the mattress so her whole body is on the bed, and she leans back, resting on her elbows. Poe comes to stand at her feet, and strips his shirt all the way off.

Her pilot kneels on the edge of the mattress, and looks at her like she’s the last water in the desert.

 _Do you trust me?_ A thousand emotions pour through in the complicated question; his desire, his concern, his lingering worry that he’ll hurt her somehow. And something else, something larger, something more powerful than Rey has ever felt. Something she knows he isn’t willing or ready to say yet.

 _Yes._ Her answer is simple, easy. She always trusts him.

His hands are on her, running up and down her legs, catching on the top of her leggings. He pulls them off, slowly, leaning down to kiss every inch of exposed skin, all the way down to her ankles. After he slides the fabric all the way off her body, he throws them to the floor, and resumes kissing her, all the way back up, up to her inner thighs, where he spends far more time than necessary pressing lovebites into the sensitive skin there.

Rey’s more than ready, more than past the point of begging when he finally licks into her. She moans into her fist, already coiled tight from having his cock in her mouth, and Poe sets in, somehow both tender and urgent, as he quickly brings her to orgasm.

She doesn’t have time to breathe before he’s slipping a finger, two fingers into her. He sits up far enough so that he can look her in the face as he brings her to the edge. She closes her eyes against the powerful sensation.

 _Look at me._ His voice is velvet, pure and ragged, and for once, Rey follows orders.

She opens her eyes to find him staring at her, greedily. _Look at me while I make you come._ It’s all she can do, obey him. Rey’s aware that she’s sobbing through her intense climax, asking aloud and in the Bond for _more._

Poe pulls away from her, and— _kriffing hell—_ slowly pops his wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

Rey wasn’t aware that that was something that could interest her. It does. Very much.

Poe’s half-smile is wicked as he studies her. _Good girl,_ he praises her. Rey whimpers, almost afraid of how badly she wants him, wants to give in to whatever he has planned for her.

Frowning now, he studies her face, and something he sees must change what he had planned. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and then brushes his damp curls out of his face. He pushes her legs together, and then shifts to the side so he can lie down next to her on the bed. Poe’s body curls around her, protectively, and pulls her to him.

They adjust so that Rey’s wrapped in his arms, facing away from him, his face buried in her hair.

“Poe?” She asks.

“Just let me hold you, Sunshine.” His voice is quiet as he presses a kiss to the top of her spine. Rey settles into his embrace, and closes her eyes.

They have hours before she has to report to her mission briefing. And she can’t imagine a better way to spend those hours than lying here, in Poe’s arms.

**

When they do make love, half an hour before they have to report at Command, Poe's more gentle with her than he's ever been, even more gentle than he was the first time they did this. 

He trembles as they move, entangled, entwined, together. He clasps her hand in his, and brings it to his lips to kiss every finger, every knuckle. Lowering her hand, he places it over his heart, holds it there, so she can feel it, so she can understand that it only beats for her, because of her. Rey nods, hearing his fervent thoughts, the young woman beyond speech as she sighs in time with his thrusts.

The ring that hangs around his neck is pressed underneath their clasped hands. Poe blinks away the tears that threaten to fall. 

He lowers her hand further, back into the mattress behind her head, and leans down to bury his face in Rey's neck. 

He whispers her name, over and over again, a chant, a mantra, a prayer.

He whispers her name into her skin, and begs the Force to bring her back to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day <3
> 
>  
> 
> (and Poe probably could be way more of a Dom, but they should talk about that before jumping into it, which is why he stopped and switched to cuddling)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends. I’ve been pretty burnt out recently and writing this (and reading your lovely feedback) has been the only cheerful part of my days!


	23. The Mission

Rey walks down the hall towards Command holding Poe Dameron’s hand.

She feels worlds different from the lonely girl on Jakku, the girl who’d never had a friend or a home. She’s holding hands with the most eligible bachelor in the Resistance, and she’s going on a mission for Leia Organa, one that will assist the hundreds of people banding together to topple a looming threat.

As they walk, several of Poe’s cadets stare, wide-eyed, at the couple. Rey can feel small ripples of surprise—and disappointment—from more than a few of them. Rey giggles, because she can’t be sure who they’re jealous of—Rey or Poe.

He smiles at her, eyes crinkling at the corner, and she smiles back, pleased that he wasn’t able to quite smooth his curls back into shape for the briefing. He hadn’t taken the time to fix his own hair, but he’d helped her with her own, clever fingers quickly twisting braids into her hair, kissing along the knobs of her spine as he tucked the ends into a neat bun. Poe’s hair, on the other hand, leaves absolutely no question as to what they’d been doing not fifteen minutes prior, loose strands hanging in his eyes, sticking up in the back, and still a little damp along the hairline.

He’ll probably catch grief for not maintaining proper military etiquette, but she thinks he’s never looked handsomer, especially as he's wearing his smart brown officer’s uniform.

They’ve reached Central Command. Before they punch in the code for the door, she pulls him in for a kiss. They part after a few heartbeats, and Poe rests his forehead on hers, still smiling at her.

“You’re taking my impending departure very well, Colonel,” Rey teases.

Poe shrugs. “I’m sure whatever Leia has planned is a breeze. They don’t like to put the Jedi’s lives at stake that often. Heck, when Ben was up for Jedi Knight, all he had to do was fly an ambassador to Yavin 4.” He freezes, having just realized that he slipped up, and talked about Ben Solo like he had never become the monster haunting their nightmares.

Rey smooths a hand across his forehead. “Mmm yeah, but that was probably a challenge for him—not throwing a stuffy ambassador out an airlock.” She’s quietly thrilled that a memory of Poe’s younger, more carefree days slipped into conversation. Ben Solo was important to him; she thinks it’s important that Poe start talking about him. Rey knows that they were best friends, that Poe thought of him as a brother, and that both men had loved each other, at one point in their lives. But she doesn’t know anything else. All she has is an incomplete picture; she can’t help Poe with an incomplete picture.

This needs to be normal, so Poe can start feeling normal. Rey laughs, lightly, to emphasize her comfort with the subject. “Besides, I’m sure she picks the tougher missions for the tougher people,” she suggests playfully.

Poe kisses her again, sweetly, allowing his hands to run from her shoulder to her waist, pulling her against him briefly. _Let’s go see what this big mission is, Sunshine._

Rey feels her brow furrow. “You mean you don’t know?” she asks him, aloud, searching his face.

“Should I know?” He looks confused, now. He takes a step back.

The door to Command opens.

 

**

 

Poe feels a ripple of apprehension along his spine. Rey looks strangely guilty, and the hand that had just been clasped in his is now grabbing her opposite elbow. She eyes him sideways, and then edges into the room ahead of him. Her shoulders are stiff. It’s all he can focus on. _Breathe._

He takes a step forward.

Vice Admiral Premtak gives Poe a once-over as he walks in behind Rey. “Fix your hair, Colonel.” Poe’s too distracted to even roll his eyes, arms moving robotically to comply.

The crowd gathered catches his attention, finally.

There are three admirals, and two generals, not including General Leia Organa, leader of the Resistance. That’s not terribly out of the ordinary—what’s odd is that instead of other higher-ranking commanding officers, other colonels like Poe, there are only two other people present: Finn and Rose.

Poe comes to stand across from Rey, with Leia between them at the head of a projected map of the nearby star systems. The rest of the soldiers take their place around the long table, and the holo casts a strange blue light over everyone’s features.

“Now that we’re all here,” the look Leia gives Poe can best be described as unimpressed even though they were _barely_ two minutes late, “Let’s talk about the upcoming mission for the Jedi Commander.” Rey isn’t technically a Padawan, but she certainly isn’t a Master yet. Using her military title makes the most sense, until she feels comfortable with the designation of “Knight.” They’ve talked about it, often enough, that Poe understands the reason for her discomfort with the official Jedi title.

“Rey has agreed to undertake a mission at my request. It’s dangerous, highly risky, but its success is vital to the survival of the Resistance, and for the survival of some three hundred members of our cause as they try to reach the safety and security offered by this base. Their location is classified, but I will now project their location onto this map, so you can see for yourself how precarious their situation is.”

The map pulls through thousands of miles of space to show a highlighted portion out near Tatooine. A large asteroid field clutters their potential path: and worse still, gathered in a deadly neon cluster, a whole fleet of First Order ships blocks the only safe passage around the asteroid field.

“Rey’s mission is to provide a reason for the First Order to move out of the system, giving the ships enough time to seek safe passage through this area,” the map highlights a proposed course of travel, “and then make the jump into hyperspace once again, so they can reach the base with minimal losses and minimal interference from the First Order.”

“That was a good opening statement, General,” Poe says, feeling his anxiety creep into his voice, creating an edge far harder than he’d wanted. “But not a lot about Rey’s mission. Do you mind telling us where she’s going?”

“That’s need to know, Colonel.” The atmosphere of the Command center is suddenly incredibly tense.

“Need to know, huh?” Poe’s beyond fury. How could the General, who he’s always thought of as a mother, be so callous, so cruel, using his words from almost a year ago against him when she’s asking the woman he loves to risk her life? “And I don’t need to know?”

“Poe, darling,” Rey’s voice breaks through the haze in his mind. “I’m the one who can’t know.”

He turns to stare at her. She’s a small person, but typically she’s alight with such purpose, such power, that he doesn’t notice. She looks small, now. Her arms are folded against her skinny frame, and her expressive eyes are pleading for him to stay calm. He’s upsetting her.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

“I’m sorry,” Poe tries to lower his voice, “But— _what_?”

Leia breaks the news. “The Commander won’t know where she’s going until she’s arrived.”

Confusion lances through him. The feeling isn’t mirrored in Rey, or in the Bond. She’s holding back what she knows.

“Could you please explain further, General?” Poe can feel the bones in his jaw grinding down as he forces himself to sound moderately respectful.

The General sighs. “Rey will not know the coordinates before she departs. She doesn’t want to know because she fears that her mind could easily be compromised by Supreme Leader Ren. And I agree with her judgment.” Poe blinks. _What does she mean, Sunshine?_ He tries to get a straight answer from Rey herself.

He hits a block in the Bond, for the first time ever. She’s trying to hide _something_ from him.

“Rey?” He’ll do this in front of everyone, then. The gathered officers, Finn, and Rose: none of whom look surprised by Leia’s decision.

“Poe.” His sweetheart clears her throat, and looks around, as if reminding herself where she is. “Sorry. Colonel Dameron. General Organa asked me if I was willing to accept this mission. It only works if I don’t know where I’m going, not at first.” Her voice is calm, but her eyes lock onto his, frantically. _Poe, listen to me. I thought you knew. I thought she had told you._

Panic is building in him. It’s all he can do to stop himself from lashing out, from grabbing somebody and demanding answers, a reason for this decision.

_I don’t want you to be upset, Poe. I thought you knew, I thought that’s why you were so…intense earlier._

A memory of him flashes into the Bond: he’s hovering over her in their bed, sweat sliding down his face as he stares down at her, mouth open, panting her name over and over again. He looks like a man possessed. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been gripping her.

Poe flinches. He’d been intense because he was trying to tell her how he felt about her, how much he treasured her.

“Why wouldn’t it work if she knew where she was going?” He manages to ask, mouth dry.

_He’ll hear me, Poe. Ben will hear me._

At the same time Rey speaks into his mind, Leia says, “The Commander accepted my request to lead Kylo Ren astray while we try to move our fleet to safety, and to throw him some bad intelligence about the Resistance’s location.”

“The Commander’s mission is to get off base and make an appearance at a site well-known to the First Order. The suggested plan is for Rey to reveal her whereabouts to Kylo Ren, make it seem absolutely vital that he meets her there, and then get out as quickly as possible before he actually gets close to her. Hopefully, the proximity will cause him to act irrationally, and he’ll bring enough of the First Order with him, that the rest of our fleet can then move…” Leia’s voice fades away.

When Poe was starting to fly on his own, about a year before his mother died, he once neglected to hit the thrusters in time on a steep dive into a ravine on Yavin 4. He’s never quite gotten forgotten the feeling of being in free fall, the ground hurtling towards him, being completely at the mercy of gravitational forces and his own luck.

Poe feels like that now.

 _They’re using you to get to Kylo? You’re fucking_ **_bait_ ** _?_

 _That’s not all, Poe._ Rey looks back and forth, nervously, between him and the General. _She’s about to tell you the rest, I think. Please, please don’t be mad. I thought you knew. I’m sorry._

“Rey will require a co-pilot for this mission.”

“I volunteer.” The words burst out of Poe before he even thinks about them, because of course he volunteers. Of course he’ll be with her for this ridiculous mission, he’ll make sure she’s safe, he’ll make sure she doesn’t take any unnecessary risks. He’ll make sure Kylo fucking Ren never so much as breathes the same air as her, ever again.

“That won’t be necessary, Colonel Dameron.” The air has left the room, but nobody else seems to be worried. Poe, however, is suffocating. “Rose Tico has already generously offered her assistance, and Rey agreed. Rose will be flying them to the location, which will be revealed to Rey upon her arrival. This will limit any unwanted knowledge of Kylo Ren’s regarding her surroundings until she’s ready for him.”

“If Kylo Ren can see and hear her _at will_ , why does she have to be kept in the dark? Can’t he just pop in on the flight and find out where she’s going from the ship’s log? From context?” Poe’s almost snarling now in impatience. What are they hiding from him? “Why does all this secrecy matter, _General_?” He barely remembers to add the title.

 _Please don’t be mad, my darling._ Ignoring her request, he keeps glowering at the General. He tries not to look at Rey. He knows the second he looks at her face, he’ll forget to be upset, and his only concern will be how to make that hurt in her eyes go away.

“Rey has agreed to the mission, under certain conditions, Colonel.” Leia’s voice is sharper now, no doubt tired of his borderline insubordination.

“What conditions?” He asks Leia, still trying his hardest not to glance at Rey.

“Rey agreed to this mission only under the condition that she be removed from the Force Bond. This will require a way to block her signature, and her own knowledge of her surroundings, for the entire journey.” Something curls, hot and unpleasant, in Poe’s stomach.

Leia stares steadily up at the map, as she announces, calmly, “So, she’s going to be sedated, with a tranquilizer and a Force-suppressant. It will wear off in roughly eight hours, when she lands at her destination.”

“Oh, great. That’s just _great._ ” He’s done with this, this stupid fucking plan. “So, she’s not just bait, she’s _unconscious_ bait!” Poe’s shouting by the end, his incredulity winning out over his better judgment, his self control.

“That’s enough, Colonel,” Leia’s order is forceful. She gives him a stern look, and then turns back to the battle map, and starts saying something about the alignment of their supplemental fleet out in a distant system, the fleet they’re going to try to move when _Rey’s being used as bait,_ which is honestly something that he can’t get over. So, he decides to question the Jedi herself while Leia talks to the gathered officers about their own tasks for the next 72 hours.

_What in the fucking hells is this?_

_It was my idea, Poe._

_It’s a terrible kriffing idea._

_I said I wouldn’t do this unless I was sure I could get his attention. If I vanish from our bond, he’ll notice. When I reappear, he’ll probably want to check on me. If he sees where I am, tries to get there in time to see me, he’ll be distracted. You saw how he was with Luke on Crait. He can’t think rationally when he’s emotionally invested in something. We could redirect the entire First Order’s attention._ Rey sounds completely at peace with this, completely deadest on the logic behind it. And Poe can’t see a shred of sense in this decision.

The hopelessness is beginning to choke him. _So, you’ll just dangle yourself out there—wherever you’re going--as_ bait, _and then, what—hope that he doesn’t find you in time? Hope that you’ll get out of there in one piece, so that you can live another day, live to be free of the First Order?_

 _Please don’t yell at me, Poe._ He feels her sadness rear up in the Bond. He hates himself, but he can’t stop. Not when the panic is demanding he find a solution.

_And I don’t see why you have to be unconscious._

_He can see my surroundings, but only when I’m awake; it’s like he borrows my eyes, my ears. I’m tired of being on his string. I’m tired of thinking that he’s finally going to get some important bit of information from me, and then he’ll find the Resistance._

Poe can sense her desperation, as it grabs hold of her thoughts. Is that why she’s being so irrational? Because impulsive, knee-jerk reactions to an out-of-control situation is a concept he’s unfortunately familiar with.

 _Rey, It’s not going to happen. The planet we’re on doesn’t even have a name, for fucks’ sake. It’s completely uncharted. And even if he did somehow find us, it wouldn’t be your fault, sweetheart. Don’t feel like this is something you have to do, to preemptively make up for something you haven't even done._ He can practically see the stubbornness rise in her, her jaw setting, her mind grabbing onto her ridiculous idea. 

_Leia asked me to do this for her, darling, please._ As Leia Organa points out routes for the ships in the background, Poe only has eyes for Rey, whose expression is lethally endearing as she begs him to understand.  

_She shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have to do this._

_I need to—what if I led him here by accident? What if he figured out where we are, because of me? This Bond is capable of doing such terrible things. What if I use it for good?_ She doesn’t even give him a chance to interrupt. _Those people on those ships need to get here safely. If I can help, I want to help. The longer we keep Ben distracted, the better._

“...ship leaves in ten minutes. Got it?”

Poe’s brought back to the conversation happening out loud abruptly.

“Ten minutes?” he asks, weakly. That can’t be right. He needs to have more time. He needs more time, so he can convince Leia, Rey, anyone, that this is a bad idea.

Nobody responds to his question. Rey stands there, slightly swaying under the light of the holo-map, looking sick to her stomach. The generals and admirals have already turned away, clearly preparing to head to their posts. Finn and Rose are in the corner, whispering their goodbyes. Finn kisses Rose’s forehead. It looks almost reverent.

Leia calls them all to attention, and they follow her out the door. Poe’s feet move forward of their own accord, out into the hallway. They walk in a strange formation: Leia in front, Finn and Rose hand-in-hand behind her, and Rey immediately after them. Poe trails behind, eyes burning with untold emotion, as if he were being led to his execution.

Poe’s still trying to figure out what happened when they arrive at the hangar. An unimpressive, unmarked transport ship waits for them, rations for several days tucked into the back cargo hold. There’s a small cot set up behind the pilot’s seat. Poe wants to vomit when he sees the restraints attached to it.

 _It’s so I won’t fall off and injure myself._ Rey’s voice cuts through his mind-numbing terror. _You have to admit, it sounds like something I would do._ She doesn’t get to make jokes right now. Not when bile rises in his throat, not when she’s about to cast herself out into the galaxy, at the mercy of a cruel, sadistic man who seems to be hellbent on keeping her as a trophy, as a prize.

A Medical Officer approaches with a slim box in his hand. “Here’s what you requested, Ma’am,” he salutes the General, handing it to her.

She opens the box, revealing a pre-loaded syringe. “We designed this using trace elements of a Force-blocking metal,” Leia comments, holding up the medical device and examining it. “It shows no lingering side effects, and I’m told that the tranquilizer it’s combined with will give you the most pleasant dreams of your life.” Poe wonders how no one gathered can hear his heart pounding, how no one can see that he’s inches away from exploding out of his skin with nerves.

“Are you ready, Rey?”

Rey smiles. “Just about.” She turns to Poe. _Is this how you want to say goodbye?_

_I don’t want to say goodbye at all, Sunshine._

_I know, darling. But it’s time, and I was wondering...if you would…_ Her eyes flick over to the syringe in Leia’s hands.

Poe’s entire body locks at the thought of plunging the needle into her skin, of willingly participating in this absurd plan. _No. No, I won’t do it, sweetheart._

_Thought you might say that._

“Finn?” Rey asks. “Would you?”

“Sure thing, kid.” Finn grabs the needle from Leia.

Rey begins to reach out for Poe, who’s too caught up in his stupid, failing brain to reach back. She smiles sadly, and instead turns to grab Finn’s arm so they can walk up the loading ramp together.

Rey sits herself on the bed. Her eyes find Poe’s, and his heart stammers in his chest. No. His heart’s on the ship, with her. Doesn’t she know that?

“I’m ready,” Rey whispers. _Poe._

He sucks his lip between his teeth, his old nervous habit, as Finn readies the syringe at her leg, near her femoral artery. “This might hurt, Rey,” he warns her.

“Get it over with, Big Deal.”

Finn laughs, but it doesn’t sound happy. “You’re just trying to make this easier for me.”

He plunges the large needle into her leg. Rey doesn’t even flinch. She’s still staring at Poe, who realizes his mistake too late. He should have grabbed her. He should have grabbed her, and kissed her, and given her every possible reminder of why she needs to come home.

 _Come back to me,_ he pleads through the Bond.

 _Always will._ Her voice in his head sounds distant, far away.

Poe chokes on what he meant to say out loud, an hour ago, when they were in bed and his galaxy was in one piece.

 _I love you, Sunshine._ The words hit a wall, fall flat. Nothing receives them.

The Bond is gone, and Rey’s eyes are shut as she relaxes and falls backwards. Finn guides her body so she’s fully lying down, and adjusts the restraints around her arms and legs.

Rose walks past him, grasping his elbow in a way clearly meant to be comforting. Her small form glides up the ramp and into the ship.

Rose pauses for a moment before getting in the pilot's chair to kiss Finn. Poe looks away, averts his eyes, from the private scene. He can hear Finn whispering that he loves her, that he loves Rose more than anything. Just another way that Finn is a better man than Poe.

Finn and Rose part, and he exits the ship, coming to stand next to Poe as the ramp lifts, cutting the two women off from their view. Before he knows it, the transport ship has initiated take off, and is soaring out of the hangar bay.

Poe considers standing there, face lifted towards the sky, until they return. He knows half of himself is on that ship. He won’t rest until it comes back.

General Organa is eyeing him. He can sense it before he looks over at her.

When he does look down, she’s waiting for his question.

“Where is she going?” the four words rip out of him, falling to the ground between him and the woman who raised him.

“Scarif.” Leia’s expression remains neutral.

“Scarif?” Poe asks, even more incredulous than before. “That’s a fucking nuclear wasteland, General!”

“Careful, Colonel Dameron,” Leia warns him. “I’m not above court martialing you for insubordination.”

The pounding, snarling mass in Poe’s chest, demanding that he commandeer the nearest starfighter and follow Rey across the kriffing galaxy, thinks that a court martial might be worth it.

The soldier in Poe nods once, asks to be dismissed, and turns on his heel to return to his room, where he sits on his bunk in silence, and counts the minutes until she comes back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh right, the plot. I forgot about that.


	24. According to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben feels a disturbing absence in the Force; Rey awakens on Scarif, cut off from the Force; Poe tries his best to deal, and gets an unwanted visitor; Rey makes contact with Ben and meets an interesting figure before she departs from Scarif; Ben and Rey talk face to face; Rose relays a message to the Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot happens in this chapter. 
> 
> And you might not like me at the end.
> 
> POV order: Ben; Rey; Poe; Rey; Ben; Rey; Poe

Kylo Ren is in the middle of a debriefing regarding a cornered refugee ship when he feels it. A shocking, cold rift in the Force, right where she’s supposed to be.

 _Scavenger?_ He speaks into the Bond. But, the Bond is gone. There is only a void.

Had all the stars in the galaxy blinked out at once, it would have been less jarring.

 ** _Rey?_** Nothing.

“Get out,” he roars at the gathered officers. The room clears in seconds. Kylo activates his lightsaber, slashing the console, the walls, the floor. Minutes later, he falls to his knees, extremely weak from the horror building in him. “Where are you?” He whispers to nobody, deactivating his lightsaber and throwing it as far away from himself as possible.

Hours pass, in increasing agony. There is no word across any channel, no whisper from any spy, about the fate of the Resistance’s precious Jedi. He orders half the ships blockading safe passage through the Tatooine asteroid field to move, commanding them to do a search of nearby star systems for any unusual activity. Nothing.

Finally, an idea comes to him. He sits in the middle of a destroyed room. Kylo Ren closes his eyes, and seeks out a Force signature he hasn’t actively looked for in years, since the pain and guilt became too much. The Force signature he’s been re-familiarizing himself with over the past months, through accidental proximity to his actual quarry.

It’s still there, as golden and bright as ever. He’s found him.

**

Rey wakes up in an unfamiliar place. She rubs her head, and sits up. There’s a thick, cloying taste on the back of her tongue, and where there used to be the dazzling lights of the galaxy’s souls, there’s nothing.

It’s only temporary, which she rationally understands, but she wants to cry at the silence all the same. She’d been alone for so long, and the Force had brought her closer to people in a way she’d never imagined.

Rose’s head pops around the corner. “Hey, sleeping beauty!’ She smiles. Rey can’t help but smile back. There was a reason she’d accepted Rose’s presence on this mission. She’s one of her best friends, her perpetually upbeat disposition complimented by her intense dedication to whatever goal she was trying to accomplish. 

“I’m going to head out there,” Rey coughs against the bitter taste in her mouth. Rose tosses her a canteen of water, which Rey accepts gratefully. “I’m going to meditate, and then as soon as I make contact with Kylo Ren and convince him to come here, we’re out.”

Rose nods. “I already ran a check of the atmo when we landed. You’re safe to proceed without any oxygen or radioactivity filters. There’s not a lot going on out there, but it’s one of the more…distinctive landscapes I’ve seen.”

Rey doesn’t understand what she means until she exits the ship.

The Bay of Scarif lies in jagged tatters, a large basin where a body of water once was. The cataclysmic event of 0 BBY had carved unnatural mountains and valleys into the surface of the planet.

Rey walks some distance away from the ship, and finds a flat, slightly elevated piece of rock. She sits, assumes proper meditative position, and begins to breathe, calmly, in and out, the way she’s practiced for almost a year.

It’s different, being cut off from the Force. But she waits, patiently, allowing the individual muscles in her body to relax, one by one. Rey smiles into the sensation as she begins to meld with the galaxy, in an entirely new way.

**

Poe paces back and forth in his bunk. It’s been ten hours since he watched the ship carrying Rey disappear into space. The dead silence in his mind only increases his anxiety.

Beebee coos, sadly, next to him. [When will Mistress Rey return?]

“I don’t know, buddy,” He informs him, not having the energy to correct her designation. Beebee looks somehow sadder. “I got an idea—why don’t you go up to Command, ask the General if there’s anything we can do to keep busy. Maybe we can fix a ship.”

BB-8 beeps its confirmation of the order with far less exuberance than usual. Poe watches his droid roll away, knowing that there’s nothing in the galaxy that could distract either of them.

The door closes behind Beebee, and something crackles in his ear, not unlike the shift in pressure when he hits escape velocity aboard a starfighter.

“Rey?” he asks, turning around. “Oh _fuck._ ” His hand is on his standard-issue blaster in seconds.

He draws the gun, aiming it at the forehead of his former best friend.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He’s had a really, really shitty couple of hours. Poe does not need this right now; the Force is clearly testing him.

“Where is she?” Kylo Ren looks a lot like Ben Solo right now. This does nothing to help Poe’s mental state.

“Who the fuck’s asking?” He snarls back.

“Is she,” his hands fidget inside his gloves. “Is she dead?”

Exasperation and bewilderment flood Poe’s mind. “Why would you care?” He asks.

“Is she dead?” The man before him definitely looks like Ben Solo, now. His eyes betray the depths of his desperation.

“No. No, she’s not dead,” Poe shakes his head, and tosses the blaster aside. He sits on his bunk, and puts his head in his hands. How has life brought him here, casually discussing his girlfriend with the ghost of his long lost brother, who also might possibly be in love with her despite his declaration of his intent to destroy her?

Life’s a real clusterfuck, sometimes.

When he looks up again, Ben’s smirking at him. Oh, that’s great. The pilot has to clench his hand as it twitches in response. Poe Dameron’s been close to death too many times to count, but he’d never envisioned dying after bitch-slapping the Supreme Leader of the First Order.

He settles on what he hopes is a terrifying glare instead. “What’s so funny?”

“Does it bother you,” his voice is somewhat cockier now that he knows Rey’s alive, “to know what she and I share?”

Poe snorts. If he only knew the half of it. “Trust me buddy, I want nothing to do with what you “share” with her. I know all about the Bond, how you forced it onto her.”

The hybrid of Ben and Kylo shakes its head at him. “You make it sound so _cheap._ What we have is real. It’s special. It was put into motion by the Force.”

“Nah,” Poe should have alerted someone of the Supreme Leader’s Force projection in his bunk five minutes ago, but now he’s way too pissed to back down. “No, it was put into motion when you strapped her into a chair and fucked around in her brain. You scared the shit out of her, Ben.” He doesn’t miss the wince on Kylo's face when he says his old name. “You terrified her, and then you bullied her and chased her, hunted her down like an animal. And if that wasn’t enough, you stood by and let your master torture her, and did jack shit to stop it.”

Ben clenches a fist. Poe can tell he’s thinking about choking him. Good. He’d love to feel something besides anger. He tries to focus his breathing the way Rey taught him.

Just thinking about Rey slows his heartrate, significantly. She wouldn’t want him to stoop to Darth Bitch Fit’s level.

“You love her.” It’s said quietly, softly. Poe looks into the other man’s eyes, and sees what’s left of Ben Solo staring back.

“And you think you love her,” Poe laughs, bitterly. “What a pair.”

“You’re wrong about us,” Ben insists, sounding every bit the child Poe knew. “She calls to me. She sings so sweetly for me in the Bond. You could never understand.” His voice is rising again. “She is _mine._ And if you could ever understand that, you’d know to not—” Ben cuts himself off, which is good, because Poe’s inches away from grabbing Ben Solo, slamming him into a wall—record-breaking Force Sensitivity be damned—and snarling _She doesn’t belong to anyone_ in his scarred, kriffing face.

“Ah,” His face is twisted by a half-smile. “There she is. She calls for me, even now.”

“Goodbye, pilot.” He’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

Poe stands, intending to run to Command and inform them of Rey’s reconnection to the Force, and Kylo Ren's discovery of her. He vomits instead, retching until there’s nothing left. He wipes the back of his mouth, and punches the wall next to his bed.

He rests his head against the wall for a moment, chest heaving. Then he picks himself up, opens the door, and sprints towards Command.

**

When the Force comes surging back into her, she knows it’s time.

She lifts the shadow she’s pulled over a part of her mind, revealing it once more: the tendril that connects her to Ben Solo hums back to life. She imagines herself holding it, like the rappelling rope she would use to scavenge in battleships, letting it pull through her hands as she seeks out Ben Solo. She tries her hardest not to awaken her Bond with Poe at the same time. He doesn’t need to be present for any of this.

 _Ben? Are you there?_ She asks, still sitting on her rock.

 _Rey. Oh, Force. Rey._ His relief is palpable, almost painful. Rey winces at her previous artifice, knowing that he’d assumed the worst. Every other sound in the galaxy fades away, and Ben appears before her.

He looks over her, desperately, as if searching for injury. Rey breathes deeply, and allows him more room than usual as his mind pushes against her, examining her.

“You’re okay,” he says, a question buried in the statement. “You’re fine.”

“Yes,” Rey says simply. She has to sell this. “I’m just practicing controlling the Bond.”

“That was something else, scavenger,” Ben’s starting to look livid. “You were gone. I felt you vanish. It was like you had _died.”_ When she doesn’t respond, he continues, louder, “I thought you had died, Rey. Do you know what would happen if you died?”

“I thought you wanted to destroy me,” Rey says, evenly. She focuses on her breath, calling on the Force for serenity. Ben pushes further into the Bond, and looks around, suddenly aware of their surroundings.

“Are you—are you on Scarif?”

“Is that what it’s called?” She asks, feigning disinterest. “I didn’t know it had a name.”

“You didn’t know where you were?” Ben looks angry, for some reason.

“I just go where I’m told, Ben,” Rey doesn’t have to pretend to be weary for this part. “They seem fairly dedicated to keeping me in the dark. I feel more lost than ever.”

She feels the conflicting emotion in Ben. “Scavenger,” he begins, clears his throat. He shakes his head. “Never mind. Please don’t shut me out again. Not without warning.” Rey looks at him, the confusion in her face absolutely authentic. She sees his intention, and knows he’s taken the bait.

And then he’s gone, quickly, and Rey gasps for air.

“Rose,” she grabs her field-communicator and shouts into the receiver. “Wheels up in five, he’s on his way. Inform the General.”

She stands and begins to jog back to the ship, but halfway there, she’s stopped by a distinctive _tug,_ somewhere behind her navel. Rey turns around, searching the ground. _What in the hells was that?_

She shrugs it off, but then it pulls on her, harder than before.

 _Rey._ A voice spirals out towards her, calling her forward. _Rey._

“Actually, I’m going down there,” she calls to Rose over the comms, pointing out in the distance. “Stay in the ship.”

“Rey, we need to leave, _now._ Before Ren gets here,” Rose sounds rightfully panicked. But, a strange sense of calm, of purpose has washed over Rey. There’s something she needs to see down here.

“Please, Rose,” she begs. “Just ten minutes.”

“Fuck,” Rose breathes. “Fucking fuck. Fine, but I’m telling Command.”

Rey waves her hand dismissively, knowing Rose can see it from the ship. “Yeah, yeah,” she says in detached acknowledgment. “Stay on the ship, Tico.”

The Force is definitely with her again, because she can feel the rude gesture Rose makes at her back. Rey grins and continues to walk forward.

A thousand meters later, she pauses. There was a beach here, once. A gorgeous beach, with white sand, tall trees. She breathes deeply, and then coughs. While no longer radioactive, the air is still bitter, metallic.

“Hello, young one.” Rey spins on her heels, and sees the form of a tall man, holding a staff. His spirit glows a bright, beautiful blue. A Force Ghost. She’d read about them. Rey knows, instinctively, that this man means her no harm.

“Why are you here?” Rey asks him, curious but not frightened.

“The Force brought me here. I listen to the Force. I go where It wills me.” His face is pleasant, slightly wrinkled by a lifetime of work in the sun.

“Are you a Jedi?” She asks the figure.

“No, dear child. The Jedi do not own the Force. But someone has already told you that,” The man smiles at her. Through the blue light of his projection, his image clarifying every second he’s before her, she can see his eyes are a strange white color.

“Who are you?” She’s beyond curious. Who is this man who’s chosen to appear to her, on this desolate landscape where there was once life, and beauty, and—oh. Love. So much love.

She feels it course through her, and with it comes the feeling of staggering loss, mixed with bitter victory. They hadn’t had enough _time_.

“Their names were Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor,” the man comments, as if he’d felt the same wave of memory. “They were reluctant heroes, but heroes all the same. They listened to the Force, and opened themselves to Its intentions.”

“Jyn. Cassian,” His smile is bright, brighter than the glare of the sun on the harsh crags of rock. “And my name was Chirrut Îmwe. I died here, with them, almost 35 years ago.”

“You were killed by the Death Star?” Rey’s stomach tightens. How often has the Dark used the weapons of the Sith to sow chaos, and hatred?

“No.” He waves a gentle hand at her, dismissing her assumption. “I was killed by men, men following orders, half an hour before the Death Star ripped this planet in half,” Chirrut seems unbothered by the details of his death. “But Jyn and Cassian were killed by the Death Star, minutes after they ensured its eventual destruction and the survival of the Rebellion.”

“Were they in love?” She asks, feeling hopelessly naïve, in a way she hasn’t in months.

“They had a deep, abiding love, formed rapidly in the crucible of war. He would have done anything for her. He died for her. And she had such love to give. She loved him for staying with her, when no one else had.”

Something in Rey shivers, and she bites her lip. The situation echoes with a disturbing familiarity.

“Did she tell him,” she whispers, hating how badly she needs to know. “Did he know before she died, that she loved him?”

“No, child,” Chirrut’s voice offers endless sympathy, even though he seems removed from any personal emotion. “He did not know. But it didn’t make him love her any less.”

A single tear falls from her eye. She stands shoulder to shoulder with the Force Ghost of Îmwe, as they gaze out upon the remains of Scarif Bay.

“We would do well to allow war to teach us the lessons it offers. Lessons of what we should prioritize,” Chirrut says. “But, that is so rarely the case.”

“And, are they together, now?” Rey swallows, a well of emotion springing in her chest for these two brave people, who had lost so much, and then lost each other.

“All things are together, in the Force.” Chirrut smiles at her. Rey reaches for his hand, and for a brief moment, she thinks she feels it.

“Rey!” Rose screams from the ship. “They’re here!” Rey looks over her shoulder, quickly, to where Rose is waving from the open door. When she turns back around, Chirrut is gone.

A horrible noise rends the atmosphere. In minutes, a dozen First Order ships have filled the sky, slamming into place, one after the other.

“Rey!” Another voice calls, deep, masculine, commanding. Rey shields her eyes against the sun, looks down the remains of the beach.

The Supreme Leader stands, without helmet, without cowl, a thousand feet away. His brown eyes bore into her own, as she stands, frozen.

“Ben.”

**

He’s so close to her. He’s glad he left his cowl aboard the _Vader,_ and he’s glad he’d jumped in a TIE-fighter ahead of the fleet. Kylo Ren gets to stand and speak with Rey, uninterrupted now, before the First Order fires upon Scarif.

“The girl must be kept alive,” was his only, desperate command to the leaders of the nearest ships. They can bomb the rest of this rock to pieces, for all he cares.

She whispers his name, her voice clear and pure, without the dampening of the Bond. This is what he had told the pilot—this perfect, lovely girl looks at him in a way that makes him feel powerful, but so weak. The Poe Dameron he’d known could never comprehend what exists between him and Rey.

“Come with me,” he asks her. “Come with me, and get away from this awful place. I’ll give you everything.”

Rey shakes her head, sadly. “I shouldn’t have shown you where we were.”

“No,” anger rises in him again. They’ve been through this. “You aren’t listening! You still aren’t listening to me!”

“You said it yourself, Ben,” she smiles, sadly. “I’m nobody, nothing. What could the Supreme Leader want with that?” His rage increases at the sight of her despair. Had he caused this?

“Come with me,” he reaches out a hand, hoping she’ll take it like she had back on Ahch-To. She doesn’t take it. “Is this because of the pilot? Because he’s _nothing_ ,” he spits out the word. “I’d make you an Empress. We would re-define the galaxy, the Force, just as you want to.  We could do it, together.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Rey says, suddenly angry. Kylo groans, inwardly. Is he going to have to kidnap the damn pilot and keep him around as a pet, to keep her happy? He’d do it, if he had to. He’d learn to share.

“We don’t have much time, Scavenger,” he looks up at the sky. Sure enough, he can see the weapons emerging, engaging, on the First Order ships. They don’t know he’s down there. _He thinks not, at least. He really hopes not._

Rey looks up too, startled. She turns to look over her shoulder, and Kylo sees the focus of her concern.

A small ship with another young woman inside. Kylo can feel the concern, the compassion, the weak, foolish _love_ Rey has for this girl. And then he understands.

“The Resistance isn’t here, is it?”

**

Rey looks back at Ben. He’d figured it out.

“No, it's not,” she answers. “It wasn’t my idea, Ben.” He looks half-pleased, half-enraged.

“Do you know what they’ll do?” He asks her, eyes narrowing into slits. “They’re about to rip this hunk of rock apart. Get on your ship, and get away from here.”

“Come with me,” she urges him. Gods, why won’t he just listen to her. “Come with me, and pretend you died here. They’ll find a new leader, and you can come home.”

It was the wrong thing to say. They’ve been talking for less than two minutes, and they’ve run the gamut on almost every possible emotion.

Ben’s settled pretty firmly on angered denial, now. “That isn’t how this works, Scavenger,” he hisses. “Come with me, join me. Or walk away.”

Rey feels a sudden, eerie sense of calm descend over her as she gazes at the sky. “How many ships are up there?” She asks.

“Enough to blow this world up,” he replies. “That’s almost a tenth of our fleet. Now, what do you choose?”

Rey shifts around in the Force, finding the controls on Rose’s ship with ease. She digs into the circuitry, activates the takeoff sequence blindly. Rose’s bright Force signature twists in confusion. _Sorry, Rose,_ she thinks.

“I choose my own path,” is her calm answer. “I always have. And I always will.”

She tilts her head back fully, aware that she’s exposing her neck to her sworn enemy, and focuses on the ships in the sky.

 _Focus,_ an unknown voice tells her. _Do not use your anger. Do not use your fear. Do not use your love. Do not use anything. Let the Force use you._

Rey closes her eyes, seeking the balance that rises inside her, and promises herself to the Force. _I accept the Force._ And then, a mantra, one that she’s never heard before, echoing with the voice of a dead man she’s just met. _I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me._

_Good. Now envision what you will._

Rey imagines the ships crashing to Scarif. She imagines the engines failing, the controls pulling downwards, the fiery plume of destruction that will rise in its wake. She imagines Rose Tico and Ben Solo safe and protected, away from the guaranteed chaos she’s about to unleash.

Rey becomes aware of distant screaming—Ben, Rose, the men on the ships—she can’t tell who’s screaming. Maybe they all are. She’s beyond all of it.

Before she lets go entirely, she remembers what she must do.

She pulls back the other corner of her mind, and finds the golden thread that joins her to a pilot thousands of miles away.

 _Rey? What are you doing?_ There he is.

 _I’m sorry, Poe. I love you._ She pushes the Bond back under, into the dark corner of her mind, raising a shield against it once more.

Rey lets go.

The Force welcomes her home, in a way nothing else ever has.

**

Despite banging on the door with his message, Poe’s isn’t allowed back in Central Command for thirty minutes after the Supreme Leader makes confirmed contact over the Bond with Rey.

With the First Order fleet diverted ( _and currently hanging over his girlfriend,_ his brain reminds him.), their fleet makes the jump with little difficulty. The plan worked, then. Leia’s providing information to the officer in charge of the refugee ship, and the atmosphere is noticeably lighter in the Command Room.

Poe’s incredibly worried—why haven’t Rose and Rey left yet? Rose had mentioned Rey wandering off, but  _why_?

“Mayday, Mayday!” Rose Tico’s voice rips across the speaker. “Is anybody there?” Leia runs to the monitor.

“Report,” she barks.

“Kylo Ren is here. He’s on the beach, walking towards Rey!”      

“Are they fighting?” Finn asks.

“They’re just…talking. I’m still on the ship, I’m using scout binoculars to look, but they’re just talking. He’s reaching out to her.” _Don’t touch her,_ Poe thinks, furiously. _You don’t get to fucking touch her, you son of a bitch._

“What’s Rey doing?” Leia asks, exchanging a weird look with Poe. _What **is** she doing? Get out of there, Sunshine. _The Bond isn’t on, but he tries anyway.

“She isn’t taking his hand. He looks angry. I…fuck,” Rose squeaks, metal clanging somewhere over the intercom. “Her lightsaber’s still onboard.”

Poe’s throat closes, a crescendo of panic wiping out every other sense.

“General, there’s another problem,” Rose says. “The First Order ships are beginning to engage. I think they’re going to fire on us, whether or not Ren leaves.”

“They wouldn’t,” Finn blanches.

“Get her out of there!” Leia cries. “Get down there and drag her onboard if you have to!”

Rose is banging around on something in the background. A minute later, she cries, “The door won't move, and the ship is turning on, General,” Rose is panicked. “I think…I think Rey is doing it.”

What is she playing at? Poe wishes she’d just turn the Bond back on, would drop the shield for a second so he could see what the fuck she’s thinking.

“She’s initiated takeoff, General. I can’t stop it.”

The next sentence out of Rose Tico’s mouth promises to stop Poe’s heart, forever. “There are ships falling out of the sky. I repeat, there are _ships falling out of the sky._ ”

“Tico,” Leia barks, “Do you have eyes on Rey?”

“She’s the one doing this—I—I can’t be sure, but she’s the one doing this. Kylo Ren is trying to stop her.”

The Bond hums, awake. Poe grabs onto it, feels Rey in the Force for the first time in hours. _Rey—what are you doing?_

 _I’m sorry, Poe. I love you._ The Bond cuts off as quickly as it had turned on. There had been no fear in Rey’s voice, which somehow only makes Poe’s own terror worse.

“Turn that ship back around, Rose,” Poe shouts. “Get down there and get our girl.”

“I’ll try but the systems are locked. Oh gods, the ships are crashing. I’ll try, I’ll—”

There’s silence, then. It stretches on for almost a minute.

“Rose?” Finn asks, barely maintaining his composure. Poe’s not much better off. The holopad he was holding snapped in two, thirty seconds ago. “Rose, are you there?”

“I’m here,” Rose whispers. “She put me into hyperspace. I’m not on Scarif anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woops there it is
> 
> I need your help, my friends:  
> There are two distinct possibilities (okay I've written both of them, and they're both over ten pages long, because I have NO self control) for the next part. One, my favorite for the narrative and how it's supposed to arc, involves a heck of a lot of torture/angst. I'm honestly very opposed to the trope of "girl is tortured so men feel things," but it fits into the motivations for how the story's supposed to go in the fallout. Let me know your thoughts, frands. 
> 
> Option One: Up the angst, go full throttle the way I want  
> Option Two: Draco exercises some goddamn restraint for once in her life and goes the smoother, less angsty route and finds a different way to bring these three to where she needs them for Act III of the story.
> 
> We'll call it "Choose your Own Angst-venture"
> 
> (Disclaimer: I'll tag the hell out of Option One and you can totally skip it and the story will still make sense, through flashbacks/references)


	25. Hope is Like the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo wakes up and realizes that Rey is gone; Poe and the Resistance receive a chilling message; Rey faces torture at the hands of the First Order; BB-8 tells Poe the story of how he and Rey met; Rey faces Hux one last time; Ben Solo makes a decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is all an extended torture scene. Rey is tortured for a long, long time at the hands of the First Order. Tags have been updated. (angst seemed to be acceptable based on your comments--sorry to those of you who picked option 1!!! I promise everything will be fine....eventually)  
> Also warning: someone gets beheaded. It's not graphic, but it's there.
> 
> This chapter will be briefly summarized at the chapter notes for Ch. 26, so if you need to skip for any reason, the sparknotes version of it will hopefully catch you up <3
> 
> Spoiler for those of you anxious about the future of Damerey: Rey and Poe will be reunited in the very next chapter, do not fret! I want those boogers to be happy, too!!!

Kylo Ren comes to, slowly, on the planet’s smoking surface. He squints against the sun, limbs weak from the struggle with Rey.

His last memory was of the Jedi pulling a fleet of ships from the sky. Her feet had left the ground, eyes closed in near-bliss, hands raised above her shoulders, hair floating around her beautiful, serene face, as terror rained out of the sky around her.

If he wasn’t sure before, he knows now that he loves her. The fierce, savage scavenger with so much potential. The Force knocked him out before the destruction was complete, but the evidence is all around him. She’d done this, all by herself, no teacher needed.

There’s an intact ship, in the distance. He makes himself focus, head pounding.

A battalion of Stormtroopers are marching in formation behind a uniformed First Order officer who carries a small woman in his arms.

 _They have her._ He thinks. Kylo blinks against the thought. _Isn’t that a good thing?_ He isn’t sure, anymore.

“Supreme Leader Ren,” a Stormtrooper stands at attention five feet away from him. Kylo glares up at him. “Do you require medical assistance, sir?” The ship in the distance takes off.

“Get me a TIE-fighter,” he spits, eyeing the ship as it accelerates into hyperspace. “Now.”

**

Poe’s standing in Command when the first transmission comes in.

Rose and Finn aren’t in the room when it does, for which he’ll be forever grateful. Finn had bundled the mechanic off somewhere quiet, warm, and safe as soon as her wheels hit ground. Because this—this would kill Rose. She’d blame herself.  

The holovid projects into the middle of the room. A technician flies through the report of the broadcast, pales, and informs the gathered officers that it’s playing on every frequency in over twenty star systems.

Someone wanted the Resistance to see this.

Poe staggers towards the projection when Rey appears.

She’s alive.

His relief is sweet, and so terribly short-lived. Rey’s alive, but she’s strapped in a chair, not unlike the one he suffered in for almost six hours, a year ago.

She’s bleeding from a gash on her forehead, and her lip is swollen. She stares ahead, hair falling out of the braids he’d woven before she left.

“Why don’t you tell the galaxy who you are, girl?” A sneering voice comes from off-screen.

Poe knows that voice—he’d goaded the man personally before taking out the dreadnought. It’s Hux. Somehow that’s worse than if it had been Kylo Ren.

At least Poe can count on Ren wanting to keep Rey alive.

Rey spits, the blood in it evident even through the glow of the holograph. “Padme Amidala,” she snarks.

_Fuck, Rey, don’t play the hero. Come back to me. We talked about this._

Sure enough, Rey’s teeth grit in pain a moment later as an interrogation droid digs one of its implements into her shin, clearly gouging into a nerve. 

“Let’s try that again,” suggests Hux, as soon as the tool emerges from her skin. “Tell the galaxy who you are.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, pleased to make your acquaintance,” Rey practically sings her answer. Her head tosses back in a sharp laugh a second later. “Now, that’s not very nice,” she scolds the droid at her feet playfully. 

“ _Who. Are. You?”_ Hux snarls, suddenly in the frame. His hand grips Rey’s jaw tightly as he forces her to look up at him, ginger hair slicked back and bloodshot eyes darkened by large shadows. He looks demonic. Rey looks angry.

Poe wants to kill him.

“I’m a fucking Rebel,” she snaps. “Who the fuck are you?”

That’s not a very popular answer, either. Hux personally punishes her for it. Minutes into it, Rey finally screams, and it sounds a lot like the name of the Resistance’s best pilot.

Later, Poe’s reliably told that it took three men to restrain him before he could be sedated.

**

There’s so much pain. Rey retches from it, but there isn’t enough fluid in her body to produce anything. Her arms ache, and the burning tells her that whatever they’d shackled her in not only cuts her off from the Force, but also does a fairly good job of removing the skin wherever it touches.

Her head is throbbing, the droids below her grabbing up at her with their cold, detached claws, waiting to jab her, hit her, shock her.

She’d counted droids among her best friends, once.

The next few hours pass in a blur of agony. There’s no way to count the blows to her stomach, the injections, the jabs, the gougings. She doubts they’re broadcasting this to the Resistance. Pain is the only thing she knows; she isn’t sure there’s enough of her left to be even recognizable.

Darkness rises up to seize her, pulls her under into a different place and—

_There are so many trees. Rey watches them weave, in and out of the wind, the same wind that cuts across her cheekbones, dragging the air of yet another foreign planet across her skin._

_Kylo Ren waits for her, saber drawn. One must die, the Force whispers. One must fall._

—Rey gasps for air. She can tell, even cut off as she is from the Force, that her chest is full of fluid. She’s been up in this chair for too long. Her lungs are weakening, filling with blood, or mucus, or maybe some of the water that the last Stormtrooper took such pleasure in forcing down her throat.

Breathing hurts, and the rest of her injuries are starting to blur together. She wishes she knew if and when they were going to kill her.

**

Poe startles awake in MedBay. Finn’s sitting next to him, ashen-faced.

“How long have I been out?” He asks through a mouth full of cotton. His friend avoids his eyes, guiltily.

“Finn.”

“Over a day,” Finn admits. Poe tries to sit up, but is stopped by padded leather restraints over his arms and chest.

“Let me up.”

“I can’t do that, Poe,” Finn’s eyes are bloodshot. Poe grits his teeth and stares at the ceiling instead of his traitor best friend’s face. “You woke up, you know. A couple times yesterday. Knocked me clean on my ass the first time. This is the calmest you’ve been. Keep it up and they won’t put you under again.”

“Have they,” he swallows against the dryness. “Have they found her yet?”

“No,” Finn whispers. “The signal cut out after the broadcast. We haven’t heard anything since.”

Poe smiles, bitterly. “I guess they’d want to parade her corpse around if she were dead, so there’s that.”

“Poe, stop it,” Finn orders.

“No. No, I won’t stop it. I was the only one who didn’t want her on that mission, Finn. It was fucking bullshit. And now those monsters have her, and they’re doing Force knows what to her, and she’s going to fucking die. And it will be all our fault.”

“Stop it, Poe.” There’s a crack in Finn’s voice that wasn’t there before. Poe looks over, and sees tears coursing down his friend’s face.

“Shit, Finn,” Poe feels awful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“You aren’t the only person who loves her,” Finn says, jaw jutting out stubbornly. “You aren’t. What you two have is special, I get that. But you aren’t the only fucking person here who loves her.” He wipes his face, hand dragging down his nose in harmony with a harsh sniff.

“I know,” Poe agrees. “I know that. Kriff, I’m sorry.” Finn doesn’t say anything else, blinking off into space, clearly trying to stop more tears from leaking out.

“Where’s Rose?” Poe thinks to ask. Finn jerks his head to the bed beside him. Poe cranes his neck to see.

Rose is sleeping in the next bed, one arm under her head, the other covering her face. She looks tiny, fragile, the fierceness drained out of her.

“She’s not restrained, but they gave her something to help her sleep,” Finn’s still staring into space over Poe’s bed. “This is,” he takes a shuddering breath, “It’s bringing up a lot. Rey’s like a sister to her, you know? They’re family, and Rose has lost enough family.”

Poe nods. He knows that. Fuck, he knows that, too.

[Master-Poe?] BB-8 rolls up next to his bed. [Are you awake, Master-Poe?]

“Hey, little guy,” Poe tries his best to smile at the droid.

[Where’s Mistress-Rey?] Beebee rolls back and forth, anxiously. [It’s one year, today].

“What’s a year today, Beebee?” Finn’s gentle with the question, as Poe’s gone silent again at the mention of Rey.

[One year since I met Mistress-Rey] it beeps, anxiously. It seems to eye Poe, who can’t maintain the crook in his neck to watch him for long. Finn takes mercy on him, and raises the bed’s angle.

BB-8 chirps, once or twice, like it’s muttering to itself. [She fixed my antennae].

“Buddy?” Poe asks. He knows he put a little too much personality into the droid, but it seems almost mournful, distraught by Rey’s absence. Or maybe it just mirrors its master to a fault.

[I can show you] it suggests. [She told me she didn’t mind if I declassified it].

“I’m not sure if now’s the best—”

“Do it,” Poe interrupts him.

Beebee coos in confirmation, and then rolls back. Its projector emerges, and a small holo appears on the sheets of Poe’s bed.

It’s Rey, tanned by the sun, three buns in place, glaring at something off-screen. Poe wants to crawl into the projection, somehow, grab the Rey in it, and run away with her, far away from the path that led them here.

 _Tal-ama Parqual!_ She barks. Poe hadn’t realized she’d known so many languages.

 _Parqual Zatana!_ The memory of Rey shakes her quarterstaff threateningly. She pulls a knife, then, and kneels down to cut something away near the camera. She’s freeing Beebee, Poe realizes. “Rey, Status: Hero-and-Savior” makes sudden sense.

She disappears from view, briefly, as Beebee rolls towards its would-be captor, beeping angrily. It spins back to face Rey, and she stares off into the distance, a fierce look on her face.

Kriff, he loves her so much.

 _That’s just Teedo,_ the projection growls. _Wants you for your parts. He has no respect for anyone._

Her image gazes down at Beebee. She crouches, again, delicate hands wrapping around something out of sight. _Your antenna’s bent,_ she muses thoughtfully. Her open, kind face fills the projection, soft lip caught between her teeth as she adjusts’s BB-8’s antenna.

Beebee makes a soft noise of adoration as the holo-vid cuts off.

[Mistress Rey saved us!] it chirps.

“Yeah,” Poe nods. “Yeah, she did.” The bed’s shaking, harshly.

Finn takes his hand, grasping it tightly. The bed isn’t shaking. It’s Poe. He takes a staggering breath, and Finn nods encouragingly. _Breathe in. Breathe out._

He squeezes Finn’s hand back. It’s going to be a long night.

**

It’s been a while since they inflicted fresh pain on her, but then again, she has no idea how many hours she’s been in here. Rey has nothing to lose, so she decides to get an answer.  

“How long have I been here,” she gasps at the guard by the door. She wishes they’d just take these stupid handcuffs off of her. So she could kick their ass. That might be why they’re leaving them on.

The Stormtrooper stares at her. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” She laughs. Well. It could probably be defined as a laugh. It’s harsh, hysterical, and sounds nothing like a girl from Jakku, or a Jedi of the Resistance.  

The man doesn’t respond—but Rey knows that underneath his mask, he’s a person. Just like Finn was. So, she tries again.

“Could you please tell me how long I’ve been here?” She can’t use the Force to compel him, but Poe once told her that her “big, sad eyes worked better than any Jedi mind trick” when she wanted something. Poe. Just the thought of him realigns something inside her body. She can think a little more clearly through the pain when she pictures his face. His large, brown eyes, his strong jaw, the way his scruff edged along the planes of his perfect cheekbones. A feeling of warmth rushes through her.

She needs to get out of here. She made a promise.

Rey looks at the Stormtrooper, and tries one more time, her eyes (well, eye. One eye is swollen shut in a way that makes her doubt it will ever open again) beseeching, “How long have I been here?”

The Stormtrooper looks over his shoulder, and then back at her. “You were brought in by Hux almost two days ago.”

That’s all he tells her, but it’s enough to get her mind spinning. Two days of this. No wonder she feels like bantha droppings.

The Stormtrooper laughs, almost unwillingly, before he cuts it off. She must have said the bantha shit thing out loud, too, then.

He readjusts his stance, feet firm, hand on bolster. It’s a good thing, too, because the door opens not even five seconds later.

Armitage Hux sweeps in.

“Hello, Jedi,” he intones, looking at her unpleasantly. “Dismissed, soldier.” The Stormtrooper salutes, and walks away.

Damn. Rey’s pretty sure she could have convinced him to at least loosen these restraints.

“Are you ready to talk yet? To tell me why none of us have permission to kill you?”

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.” Rey’s heard those words before, muttered by Poe in his sleep, in the grip of his nightmares. They come naturally from her, now. She’s still thinking about Poe, how his face looks when he’s sleeping peacefully, the eyelashes that catch on the golden skin of his cheekbones, the Cupid’s bow of his mouth, when Hux comes to stand immediately in front of her.

“Kylo Ren has a special interest in you,” he sneers, looking down at her. Rey’s too busy counting the constellation of Poe’s moles in her memory to respond. Hux doesn’t need an answer, though. “Ren likes you so much, it’s almost a shame that I get to play with you first.”

That gets her attention.

“Get away from me,” she whispers. Hux smiles, a truly evil glint in his eye.

This is Snoke’s heir, she realizes. Not Ben. Never Ben.

“So, Jedi, tell me. What makes the Supreme Leader so interested in you? A skinny little rat from Jakku?” He grabs a long, thin blade from a tray while he speaks, twirling it between his fingers as he approaches her.

Rey refuses to give him the pleasure of thrashing away, even when he digs the blade into her arm, below the faded scar she received in Snoke’s throne room.

“Jealous?” She asks, when her mind is clear enough to speak. The serenity promised to her by the Jedi code is a little out of reach, right now. She thinks the Force will understand.

Hux snarls, his face twisted into something inhuman as he drops the knife, and grabs a syringe instead.

“I think I’ll enjoy handing him what’s left of you,” he hisses as he injects something into her veins, over her heart.

Rey’s whole body tenses a second later. He’s injected liquid fire into her body. Every cell is in agony, every inch of her body caught in an inferno. There’s a horrible, screeching sound, as if the air itself were being torn apart.

 _Oh._ Some detached part of her brain notices. _That’s us._

Rey waits for unconsciousness to take her, for death to welcome her into the Force. She remembers that there’s someone waiting for her. She doesn’t remember who, though.

She’s always been in pain, she thinks. This is all there ever was.

Her eyes are beginning to slide shut, when the door caves in, and slams into the opposite wall.

Kylo Ren stands in the doorway, lightsaber drawn, teeth bared as he stares at Hux.

“She’s mine,” he growls. He stalks forward, blade raised, and liberates Hux’s head from his shoulders faster than Rey can blink.

**

It had taken him too long to find her, he knows that. Hux had hidden his involvement well. By the time Kylo had reached _The Sidious,_ his rage had swelled to unmitigated heights.

As soon as he destroys the door, he fights the urge to vomit at the scene before him.

Blood drips off the bottom of the chair, a tray of dirtied instruments off to the side. Hux leans over Rey, far, far too close for comfort as she screams in agony. Half her face is swollen.

Ben doesn’t think; Kylo had activated his lightsaber the second the door ripped open, and he sweeps into the room. _She’s mine,_ he thinks, or maybe says aloud. He doesn’t pause in his movements, decapitating the red-haired man in seconds. The red blade disappears, and Kylo doesn’t even stop to kick Hux’s body out of the way, stepping over it towards his destination.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sweeping his gaze over the girl’s body. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She’s still sobbing, incoherent from pain. Kylo examines the tray of instruments next to the chair.

He listens to the Force, and grabs the syringe that reverses the effects of the drug coursing through her system.

It takes several seconds to find a suitable site on her chest. She’s incredibly dehydrated, and bruises litter most of her visible skin. Kylo decides to just jab it into her neck. It’s the right move, for Rey’s body relaxes seconds after he injects it into her bloodstream.

“There you are,” are her first words. She smiles, somehow, looking down at his feet, too tired to lift her head. “Knew you’d come.” Kylo feels something in him break. _Does she think he’s the pilot?_

“You saved me,” Rey says, still smiling around the words. When she lifts her head, he notices that her teeth are stained red. “Knew you were in there, Ben.” Her breathing is labored, and her eyes close. Ben rips his glove off his hand, raises it to her forehead. He hasn’t had a lot of human contact in the last few years, but he knows Rey’s skin is far too hot to be safe. He knows what he has to do.

“I’m getting you out of here,” Ben informs her, releasing the restraints on the chair.

He sweeps her up in his arms the second she collapses.

If this were a different story, his father’s, perhaps, he’d kiss her. Ben Solo could kiss a sweet girl from the desert, and make every ounce of her pain disappear. He’d kiss her, and she’d find the strength to kiss him back. He’d convince her that he loved her, that it could be enough for both of them, and that he’d never let anyone hurt again. In doing so, he’d ensure that he’d never be hurt again, either.

But he knows that is not their story. The sweet girl from the desert is broken in his arms, and the man who truly loves her waits on a Resistance base across stretches of space that Ben can’t cross.

He loves Rey, but Ben knows that Kylo Ren can’t have her. Not today. Not when their destinies lie, so entwined, in the future. She needs to recover, become strong again, and then face him. Only as equals can their destiny be fulfilled. The darkness rises, and the light to meet it.

One must fall. Or one must die.

But not today.

So he takes her out of the room, cradling her in his arms. He walks down the hallway, snapping the neck of any Stormtrooper they pass.

He finds a small, banal ship in the hangar bar of _The Sidious._ He doesn’t even have to drop Rey to program the access code into the side, merely cradling her slight weight in one arm as he types.

The door hisses open, and he strides up the ramp. Ben snorts at the irony of him crossing the threshold with a woman in his arms. It’s a bastardization of a wedding night, and it’s killing him slowly at the same time it tempts him to change his mind, keep her, keep her by his side and teach her the true meaning of the Force.

The weakness in him fades as he lowers her into the chair. She looks up at him with such trust, as he smooths flyaway hair out of her bruised face, and asks him a question that does so much to ensure the complete destruction of Kylo Ren.

“You could…still…come with me?” Half-dead, almost destroyed by torture at the hands of a man he’s worked with in close proximity with for four years, and Rey is still trying to save him.

“Hush, sweet one,” he murmurs. Her destined place is by his side, he’s sure of it. But he cannot join her. This is not their destiny. “You will return to the Resistance, without me.” He buckles her into the pilot’s seat, types in the commands that will allow her to leave the hangar, unnoticed.

Ben turns to the astromech assigned to the ship, which has just rolled over to his side. “When she drops out of Hyperspace, you will radio the Resistance with your coordinates. Tell them there’s a gift from Kylo Ren waiting for them,” he instructs the droid. “Wait for their response, and program whatever you have to program. And then you will self-destruct.” The unit beeps in acceptance.

“He’s just a droid, Ben, don’t make him do that,” Rey pleads with him, good eye fluttering shut. Her fingers grasp his wrist, weakly. Her grip is slippery from blood and leaves a red trail on his skin when her hand relaxes, falls away.

Gods, he loves her. And he can never touch her again.

“Fine. The droid will be spared. Now go to sleep,” he whispers to her. She’s further gone than he realized because she obeys. He didn’t even have to compel her.

He studies her face, momentarily. Horrible bruises line her right cheek, doubtless from Armitage’s hand, standing out from the rest of the miscellaneous discoloration. Part of Kylo Ren wishes that he’d spared Hux’s life, if only to crush it out of him slowly, creatively, a minute for each one that Rey had suffered at his orders, at his hands.

“Go, now.” He instructs the droid.

Kylo Ren sweeps off the ship, which raises its ramp, engines powering on, and flies out of the hangar.

 _Godspeed, Rebel,_ he thinks, drily. _See you around, kid._

He walks towards his ship, alone.

When he returns to the _Vader II_ , an hour later, he orders the immediate destruction of _The Sidious._ No one is to be left alive.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go hide under a rock, now.


	26. Make it Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey returns to the Resistance and begins the process of recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: References to torture/injuries throughout.
> 
> Summary of Ch. 25, if you needed to skip it: Rey wakes up on Hux's ship/he orders her torture and broadcasts it for the Resistance; Poe does NOT react well, and requires medical sedation; BB-8 reveals the way he and Rey met to Poe, which provides some levity; Hux personally torments her until Kylo Ren finds them, kills Hux, and then absconds with Rey, putting her in a ship pointed at the Resistance.

Finn escorts Poe back to Command twelve hours after he’s cleared from Medical. BB-8 rolls in behind them, and then parks itself in the corner, looking and sounding subdued.

General Organa nods at Finn, and then takes Poe by the arm, dragging him away from the others to talk in relative privacy.

“Are you okay, Colonel?”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, avoiding her eyes.

“Poe.” Her voice has a warning in it. Poe sighs, and then looks at her. Her eyes soften at what she sees in his face. “We don’t know anything new, right now. I would have told you if we did.”

Poe nods. He knows. He trusts her, still, through everything. He trusts Leia Organa.

They stand and wait in the Command Room for what seems like years, but the chronometer informs him is only a few hours.

He’s considering sitting down, somehow exhausted despite the entire day of unconsciousness he’d just had, when there’s a loud alarm from one of the receivers.

“Incoming transmission from a First Order ship. Class-Type B-escort shuttle,” an intelligence officer announces. She looks up at General Organa, and then at Poe. “Should I play it, General?”

Leia checks with him, and in one glance, can tell that he’s going to refuse to leave the room regardless. She rolls her eyes, and then moves so that she’s directly in front of the console that will issue the broadcast. “Go on,” she says, apprehension evident in her drawn face. “Play it.”

The comms come to life, and oddly enough, it’s a string of Binary that pours through.

[This is a BB-9E unit from the previous First Order ship _The Sidious._ ] announces the droid.

Poe feels his lip curl in confusion. _Previous?_

[I am onboard a vessel bearing a gift from Kylo Ren.]

The collective breath of the room is lost. Poe stalks forward until he’s at the console, shoulder to shoulder with Leia. _A gift?_ His body feels alternately hot, and then colder than space. His nails dig into his palms. He’d told Finn that the First Order would delight in parading the corpse of Rey in front of them. Is this what they’ve sent them? He feels himself hurtling towards something large, something terrible.

Next to him, Leia asks, “What is it, BB-9E?”

[The Jedi Commander known as “Rey” is onboard. I have been tasked with contacting you, and informing you of our location. This is my mission directive. Transmitting coordinates now.]

That’s still not a confirmation that she’s alive or dead. Leia’s on the same page, as she asks, “BB-9E, is the Jedi Commander alive?”

There’s a soft beep. It must be checking. Poe hates the implications of it needing to check.

[Confirmed. Jedi Commander Rey, status: Alive. She needs extensive medical attention. Many systems are failing.]

“On the ship?” Leia’s voice cuts through the air, demanding clarification.

[Negative.] Poe’s heart’s going to rip out of his throat any second now. [Ship is fully operational, and is awaiting Resistance coordinates. The Jedi Commander known as “Rey” is experiencing multiple system failures. My sensors indicate the following errors of operation: lung; heart; nervous system; kidney; stomach—]

“We get the picture, BB-9.” Leia cut him off, probably because she’s seen the way Poe’s hands are gripping the console, knuckles whitened. Finn’s not much better off, sweat coating his face, nostrils flared in anxiety.

[My mission is to deliver the Jedi to the Resistance, alive. I require coordinates.] BB-9E still hasn’t changed its tone, detached and dedicated to its mission.

“What’s Kylo’s game?” a general asks from behind Poe. His shoulders tighten in response. He’d like to know that, as well.                                                                                                                                  

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Vice Admiral Premtak asks, justifiably, over near his station.  

“Send the nearest scout ship to do a check,” Finn suggests. “Check for life-forms onboard, and we’ll know what we’re dealing with.” Poe hates the necessity for caution, but he begrudgingly understands the logic behind exercising it.

[Unwise. Time is limited. Awaiting coordinates.] The droid says in its unaccented Binary.

Beebee coos with heightened anxiety, bumping into Poe’s leg. It clearly wants to know why they haven’t helped Rey yet. Poe explains, “We need to make sure she’s actually onboard, buddy.” As soon as he’s done with the sentence, a cough comes over the comms. It’s harsh, ragged, and sets his teeth on edge immediately.

“P-Poe?” It’s Rey. Oh gods, it’s Rey. He’s unable to move, can’t speak. _Rey._ He surges into the Bond, that’s been so quiet for so long now. He feels a flutter, somewhere in the distance. It’s her.

“Commander,” Leia is the one who remembers to speak. “What’s your status?”

There’s labored breathing, and then Rey speaks again. “C-c-cold. I’m—cold.” Poe’s freezing too, now that she mentions it. He tries to construct a memory of warmth, of protection to send to her. Her distant signature grows slightly stronger.

“Are you alone?” Leia pushes. Poe’s staring at the console, trying to determine her condition from her breathing. It’s not an optimistic prognosis.

“Yeah,” her voice is so, so faint. “Yeah ‘m alone. No, wait….there’s a droid.” She giggles, wetly. “It looks like Beebee with a mopey paint job.”

Poe cups the speaker as if it were part of Rey. He laughs shakily when Beebee bumps into his leg again, eagerly trilling [Mistress-Rey!].

“I like Beebee’s colors,” Rey sounds almost dreamy. “Orange and…and white. ‘S nice.” She coughs, harder than before, and then groans in pain. “Oh, fuck.”

“We’re sending you the coordinates, now, Commander,” Leia says, jabbing her finger at the nearest tech officer in a silent command. The officer types quickly, rapidly decrypting it so only Rey’s ship can receive it, and submits the transmission.

“Hang in there, Sunshine,” Poe finds his voice again. “You’ll be here soon.” Rey’s borrowed astromech beeps over the intercom as it receives the transmission.

“The ship is expected to drop out of hyperspace and into our atmosphere in 22 minutes,” their tech officer reports.

“Can you park that thing, sweetheart?” Poe asks. There’s no response from Rey.

Instead, the droid speaks. [The Jedi is unconscious again]. It sounds impossibly flat, no affectation to its voice, the opposite of BB-8. [I will pilot the ship.]

“Okay,” Leia says, obvious trepidation in her voice. Poe knows why, of course; those droids are hardly programmed to protect lives.

[She will be safe, General Organa] the droid promises, an actual inflection suddenly in its tonality. The General and Poe exchange a look. [She saved me].

“Sort of pattern with her, isn’t it?” Leia muses, a smile playing on her lips for the first time in 72 hours.

[Mistress-Rey is a savior to all,] coos Beebee from below, probably planning the formation of the Rey Fan Club for Droids.

Poe laughs, and it’s echoed by Leia. Suddenly the whole of Command is laughing, hugging. Looking around at the elated, exhausted faces of the officers, Poe remembers what Finn had told him in the MedBay. He’s not the only person here who loves Rey. She is so important to them, to all of them, to the Resistance.

 _I’m a fucking Rebel,_ her fierce voice whispers in his memory. She’s a _Rebel_ , he thinks as Finn pulls him in for a hug.

She’s a Rebel, and she’s alive.

**

_There are trees, here. She’s seen this place before. The wind howls around her, the greenery of the environment almost overwhelming her senses. Green is her favorite color. How fitting that this place would be green._

_The air crackles around his lightsaber. Rey can’t see him, but she knows he’s there. She turns her own on, and faces him, finally._

_Kylo Ren stares at her, teeth bared in a snarl she hasn’t seen since Starkiller._

_“Choose,” he commands her. “Me, or them.” That’s not a choice she needs to make, she wants to argue. He just needs to come home, and then he’ll understand. If he would just listen to the Force, instead of trying to control it._

_But she can’t speak. Their blades cross, over and over again. He’s stronger than she is, but she’s faster. The Force hums in satisfaction, as if saying it always knew their paths would lead here._

_Kylo or Ben. Jedi or First Order. Light or Dark. The universe asks her to make a decision she isn’t ready for._

_One must die, something in the Force tells her, uncaring, unmoved. One must fall._

Something rattles her out of the dream. She cracks her eye open, hissing against the light that floods into her vision. She feels cloudy, distant from her own body.

Considering what she remembers of the last few days, that’s probably a blessing.

The BB-9E unit is eyeing her, cautiously. [We have arrived] it beeps. [We are currently landing at _undisclosed Resistance base_ ]. Ben had done it then. He had really done it. She was free.

“Clever boy,” she praises the droid, which rolls back, making a pleased noise.

Her chest feels heavy, and her face feels tight. She’s so, so cold. Why hadn’t Ben come with her? He saved her. He could still be saved.

She can’t tell if any time has passed, or if it’s the next second that there’s pounding feet coming up the ramp to the ship.

“Rey?” It’s Poe’s voice. Poe has a nice voice. She’s always liked it.

She’s too cold to respond, and she wonders why he sounds so worried. She just needs a blanket.

“ _Fuck._ ” He sounds even more upset now. She can feel that he’s near her, she can feel the warmth radiating off his body. She wants to curl up in it.

Something’s burning on her arm. She gets an eye open to see what it is--it’s Poe’s hand gripping her wrist, thumb rubbing over the veins in her wrist.

“Medic!” Poe’s shouting down the ramp, and it hurts her head. She winces, and then feels the rest of her body starting to awaken.

“Rey?” Poe’s quieter, now. “How did you get here? How did you escape?” His voice is thick. It makes her sad. She loves Poe. She doesn’t want him to be sad. But she also wants to sleep. Something in the distance of her mind calls her name, and then reminds her of something she’d read once, in a book.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

**

Rey’s pulse is thready when he runs a thumb over her radial artery. She’s alive though, he focuses on that.

“How did you get here?” He asks her, marveling at her, the wonder that is Rey, even as his panic chokes him. “How did you escape?”

She doesn’t say anything, breath coming in harsh, short gasps. Her skin feels way too warm, and her eye slides back shut.

He tries his hardest not to focus on the eye that never opened, the swelling that covers half her lovely face, the shadowed bruises that darken her skin, obscuring her freckles.

He shakes her shoulder, roughly. “Rey?”

“B—” Rey’s teeth begin to chatter, body locked in the grip of a terrible fever. Poe smooths the hair away from her face. The Bond throbs like an open wound, suddenly, and Poe feels a fraction of what’s ripping through her. She’s blocking the rest from him, he can tell, even now trying to protect him.

“Medic!” He screams, again, over his shoulder. “And you, go to sleep,” he barks at the black BB-9E unit that’s parked itself as a sentinel at Rey’s feet. It beeps and obeys, rolling to a charging station and powering down.

Rey sobs something unintelligible as she writhes against the pain. He lowers his voice so he can try to soothe Rey, this miracle of a woman, who somehow found a way back to him.

“Hey, Sunshine, hey. I got you. I got you. You don’t have to say anything, just hold on.” _Where the fuck is that medic._

“Ben,” she says, so soft he thinks he imagined it. “Poe,” she whispers, tugging on his sleeve. “It was Ben.” His world narrows down further, into a tunnel as he studies her bruised face.

“What?” He asks, kneeling by her side, immediately. “What about Ben?”

Her breathing is even more labored now, as she becomes more aware of her surroundings, the pain registering somehow more intensely.  She whimpers, grabs Poe’s hand tightly. He grips back, terror edging through him, threatening to swell into rage.

 _What about Ben, sweetheart?_ He prays that she can hear him through the Bond, but the feedback response of her agony is enough to cut off the air from his own lungs.

“Ben,” she whispers. Unconsciousness is threatening to steal her away. “Ben, he, he—"

White noise washes over his ears. He dreads the end of that sentence, what she’s trying to say.

“I’ll kill him,” he promises her, hands clasped around her wrists, trying to catch her eyes. “I’ll fucking kill him.” He’s cut off by Rey adamantly shaking her head.

“No, Poe,” she says. “He _rescued_ me.” Before she can tell him anything more, something inside her causes Rey to scream through gritted teeth, eyes rolling upward as she goes back under, body convulsing.

Poe’s pushed aside by the Medics, who’ve finally boarded the ship. They sedate her, the convulsions slowing, and then Rey’s loaded onto a gurney; an oxygen mask fitted over her mouth.

It's off a second later, after one medical officer shouts, "No pulse!" The smallest doctor jumps up and starts Standard-Resuscitation, ripping Rey's tunic open to begin compressions. 

He needs to be with her, now, and he tries to walk towards her. But Poe's pushed back by another doctor that orders the team, "Move!" They wheel her down the ramp, and Poe remembers how to move. He tries to stumble after them as they sprint towards the MedBay, but Finn catches him at the door to the hangar.

“Let me go,” he snarls at his best friend. “I need to—”

“You don’t need to see this,” Finn tells him, strong arms wrapping around his torso, keeping him still. “You don’t.”

“Finn,” Poe chokes, fighting against Finn’s hold. “Finn, what if she…”

“She won’t, man,” Finn says, tightening his arms around him. “She’s strong. She’ll be fine. She has to be.”

Poe gives up the struggle. He grips Finn’s shirt, his shoulder, his back. “She’ll be okay,” he mutters, exhausted. “She has to be okay.”

“Yeah, Poe. She’ll be okay.”

Poe hiccups, and buries his head in his friend’s shoulder. Finn’s hand comes to cradle the back of Poe’s head, and he lets him cry without saying another word.

*******

Leia comes by to visit the day after Rey’s return.

Poe’s leaning in the doorway when she approaches.

“General,” Finn nods from his post in the hallway, across from the door. He and Poe have taken turns sitting outside, as if they were on watch, for all hours of the day. Rose, for her part, hasn’t moved from the chair by Rey’s side once.

Rey hasn’t woken up, yet. The apparatus to help her breathing hasn’t moved. The doctor said she has pneumonia, among all her other ailments, a diagnosis which caused Poe’s lungs to ache in sympathy.

“How’s she doing?” General Organa asks, grey-faced, cane in hand. Poe knows she only uses it when she’s feeling poorly.

Poe shakes his head.

“No real change since yesterday,” Finn says. “Doc says her oxygen saturation is better, and some of her wounds are responding well to bacta, but there’s…” Poe closes his eyes, and rests the back of his head on the doorframe, shaking his head against what Finn’s about to say.

“There’s what?” Leia asks. Poe slits an eye open so he can look at her.

She’s never looked older, or more tired. He’d considered yelling at her, asking her if _this is what she had planned for that stupid kriffing mission,_ but looking at her face, he knows she’s punishing herself enough. He will not be the only person haunted by the sight of Rey, connected to over a dozen machines that work together to keep her alive, trapped in a hospital bed.

“There’s a lot of nerve damage,” Rose answers from her station. She’s holding Rey’s hand as tightly as she can, avoiding the numerous pumps and needles threaded in it. Rose looks up, eyes red-rimmed by her unspeakable grief. She speaks through it, teardrops falling into her mouth as she says, “They said the next few days are critical. And that her body’s ability to fight infection doesn’t seem to be helped by the bacta. They’re trying other things, but.” She stops talking, and lowers her eyes to stare at the bedsheets. Poe closes his eyes again, trying to block this all out.

There’s a knocking against the door, which stops when someone puts a hand on his arm. He realizes the sound was his own head slamming rhythmically against the frame.

Leia’s next to him, wrinkled hand in the crook of his elbow. “Poe,” she says, a sheen to her warm, brown eyes. Poe’s mouth quivers as he looks down at the woman who raised him.

“Mom,” he chokes out, suddenly. “Mom.”

“Shhhh,” General Leia Organa, commander of the Resistance, former Princess and war hero, legend of the New Republic, wraps her arms around her son, pulling him close.

“I’m so scared,” he sobs into her shoulder, “What if she never wakes up?”

“Sweetheart,” Leia strokes his hair, and somehow she navigates them to the floor, so she can hold him properly, six inch height difference be damned. “She’ll be okay. She’s strong.”

“ _I’m_ not,” he gasps. “I’m not strong enough for this.”

“You are,” Leia reassures him. “You are, because you have to be. You have to be strong for her.”

Poe nods, still crying, as Leia rocks him back and forth.

“What do I always say, Poe?” Leia asks him. He’s shaking too hard to respond, but she prompts him anyway. “What is hope like, Poe?”

“Hope is like the sun,” he says, and takes a deep, gulping breath. Leia kisses the top of his head as he finishes, “If you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

“That’s my boy,” she says approvingly. Poe’s still shaking, but she approves of him all the same. “ _This_ is the night, Poe. But she’ll pull through. And you’ll have a wonderful, wonderful life together. You’ll pull your head out of your ass and do everything in your power to build a life with her.” Poe cries harder, at the promise. “This is the night, and it’s the hardest part. But she’ll come through. You need to have hope. Have hope, and just believe in it. Believe in her.”  

**

Poe’s sitting in the chair at Rey’s bedside. Finn had managed to pull Rose away an hour ago so she could sleep in an actual bed, so he’s by himself in the room, reading. Trying to read. Every few seconds the beeping of the monitor will draw his attention, once more, to the display of her heartrate. He’s more than a little obsessed with this visual confirmation that Rey is breathing.

The infections had finally dropped off, allowing her body to begin to progress in its healing. She’s so close to him, she’s here, but she hasn’t woken up in the last three days.

He’s slightly comforted as her signature grows stronger every hour. He breathes deeply each time it brushes against him, and he tries to push the enormity of his love for her into the Bond whenever possible. He closes his eyes, allowing the soft sounds of her breathing and the monitors wash over him while his exhaustion burns in the back of his throat.

“Poe?” He looks down, and his heart stutters at the sight of Rey’s open eyes. She’s studying his face, looking wary, almost frightened.

“Sweetheart.” He tosses his holonovel to the side, and scoots his chair closer to her, reaching out tentatively to brush the back of her hand with his fingers.

“Poe,” she pauses to run her tongue over her teeth, probably trying to create moisture where there is none. Her eyes never leave his face. “Am I—am I dead?”

A hysterical laugh rises in his throat. He grabs her hand fully and leans down to kiss it. He looks back up at her, cheek resting on her blanket-covered leg, and blinks rapidly, trying to maintain his composure.

“No, Sunshine. You’re here. You’re safe.”

“Then why are you crying?” Even in her extremely weakened state, she’s worried for _him._ Her other hand comes to stroke the top of his head, sweetly. Poe leans into the touch, feeling his stomach settle for the first time in six days.

“Because you came back to me,” he whispers, averting his eyes so she can’t see the fresh onslaught of tears, burying his face in her lap.

“Poe,” she says, voice tight with something that isn’t quite pain. He looks up at her, expecting anger, or sadness, or rejection. What he gets is benediction. “I promised.” He kisses her hand again, and again. “Always,” she reminds him, eyes closing again, breathing heavily against the cannula in her nose. “I’ll always come back.”

She’s asleep, but she’s resting peacefully. And Poe Dameron blesses the Force, praises It, in every language he knows.

***

The days that follow her re-awakening test them in ways Poe didn’t know existed, not even after his decade career as a soldier, not even after the heavy losses he’s sustained, and caused.

One of the worst things to come out of the ordeal is Rey’s sudden disinterest in food.

She refused to eat for days, sobbing when they brought her a protein drink. The Force rippled out from her, uncontrollably, throwing the cup and its contents against the opposite wall. Poe had stared at the spreading, rapidly growing stain, arms locked behind his back, clenching his fists against the urge to rush to her side and kiss her, run his hands along her body until they both remember that she’s safe, now.

Instead, Rose had gotten into bed next to her, and stroked her hair comfortingly until Rey had confessed, between hysterical sobs, that Stormtroopers, under the watchful gaze of Hux, had forced a tube down her throat for over five minutes with no sedation, cramming a sludge-like sustenance into her gullet until she’d puked. And then they’d done it again. And again. Poe had vibrated from rage, and Finn dragged him from the room so Rey could cry without an audience. Only Rose was allowed to stay, holding her as gently as she could.

Her passion for eating was one of the first things about Rey that he’d fallen in love with, and the First Order had taken it away from her. Poe Dameron, who once found it difficult to dislike anything, hates them for it.

It’s only his expansive love for Rey that stops it from taking root in his heart.

***

Rey takes her first steps four days after she wakes up.

Poe watches her, feeling prouder than anything, as she walks carefully, grabbing the support bars the Medical Officer had set up for the occasion. He applauds after she crosses the room, and Beebee extends its mechanical arm, igniting a flare in celebration.

“I want to try it without the bars,” she says, sweating lightly.

Poe raises an eyebrow at her. The Medic nods, considering it. “You’re making remarkable progress, Commander,” she says. “Just take it easy, with someone next to you in case you need to grab on to something.”

She looks at Poe, hope shining in her eyes so brightly he forgets to breathe. “Please?” she asks. As if he could deny her anything.

“Your wish, my command, Sunshine,” he says, walking over to his Jedi. He offers her his elbow, which she takes giggling. “My lady,” Poe says, waggling his eyebrows.

“Colonel Dameron,” she answers, prim and proper, just as light-hearted as she’d been _before_. Poe fights the urge to sweep her off her feet and run away with her, run and hide in some undisclosed corner of base, keeping her by his side and in his bed until he deems it necessary for them to emerge.

 _She’s healing,_ he tells himself. _Not now. Focus on her healing._

 _I can hear you, you know._ She comments, drily. They’re walking still, slowly and carefully. _I’m not some broken bird. And keep your mind out of the gutter, Dameron. We’re in mixed company._ She’s absolutely right. He smiles at her, chastised but not any less lovestruck.

He lets go of her arm when she nods at him. Rey walks forward, tentatively, and Poe shadows her, using the Bond and his own eyes to gauge if she’ll need help.

Rey walks, shaky at first, but then sure and confident. Poe’s so caught up in watching her that he doesn’t notice the door sliding open.

Chewbacca howls something in greeting, and Rey shrieks in surprise, almost losing her footing. She catches herself before Poe has to, and then Chewbacca is striding forward, grabbing her around the shoulders, watching her face, making soft vocalizations at her.

“Chewie!” she squeals. “I can’t believe you’d say that!”

She’s laughing, and Poe wishes he spoke Wookie. She grabs Chewbacca around the middle, and he wraps his large arms around her, almost entirely obscuring her from view.

“He said ‘ _you’re definitely a baby rat now, Jedi_ ,’ in case you were wondering, Poe,” Leia smiles from the doorway. Poe laughs at that, as well, remembering Chewbacca’s nickname for Rey.

“You’re back from your mission?” Rey asks, face buried in the Wookie’s fur. “Me too!”

Chewbacca roars something, patting her sides anxiously, eyes flitting around the small hospital room. “Yeah, I think he knows,” Poe comments sardonically. The Wookie looks up at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. He growls something at Poe, and Rey swats at his arm before diving back into the hug.

“Stop it, Chewie!” she scolds. “He was the only one who didn’t want me to go. It was my choice.”

Chewie mutters something at her, and she just laughs. When the Wookie looks back at Poe, there’s a begrudging acceptance in his eyes.

Poe’s seen the reports of the war fought by Leia, Han, Luke, and Chewie. He knows the number of confirmed kills earned by the former smuggler standing in front of him.

He breathes a little easier knowing that the Wookie has one less reason to hate him.

**

Recovery is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do.

She has bacta-therapy for hours a day, wherein doctors attach slimy, gooey pockets of bacta over her various injuries, rotating through the sections of her body so she doesn’t develop a resistance to the substance. During the sessions she giggles with Rose, plays card games with Finn, or holds Poe’s hand, neither of them having to say a word as they luxuriate in the warmth of the Bond.

Rey wonders how such a simple act could mean so much to her. Her hand fits so well in his, his warm, large hand not shying away her strangely cool skin temperature, a result of the constant cocktail of drugs pumping through her system. He makes her feel protected, not fragile, as he strokes the delicate bones of her fingers, which are more palpable than ever.

She dozes more often than not, exhausted from the difficult task of healing. The nerves in her arms and legs had been significantly damaged by the interrogation droids, but the neuro-specialist on base seems to think she’ll make a full recovery. It’s hell in the meantime. In the middle of conversations, she’ll often stop, grit her teeth, sweat beading on her forehead as the nerves crackle to life, desperately trying to rewire themselves post-trauma. Her breathing becomes harsher, and her eyes tighten. She’ll grip the hand of whoever’s closest, trying to anchor herself to the moment, trying to ignore the ripping pain shooting up her legs, down her arms, into the base of her spine.

When she opens her eyes, her friends are always waiting, waiting for her to say something. They try not to baby her, she knows, but she loves them for caring. Rey will smile, patiently, and tell them she’s fine. Because she’s trying to be. She has to be.

She honestly thought she’d be angrier; angry at what was done to her, angry at the universe, at the uncaring Force. But she isn’t angry. She can see that Poe is—she can see it in the clench of his jaw when the doctors lift her gown to examine the healing wounds on her abdomen. She can see it in the shaking in his hands as he smooths her hair out of her face after a particularly awful nerve attack. She can see it in the furrow of his brow as he leans down to kiss her knuckles, her palm, her forehead. He’d kissed her properly, once, about four days after she woke up.

~

It had been right after she had successfully walked around the room. The second they were alone and she was settled back in bed, he’d swooped down and captured her lips with his own. She’d been so happy, his mouth slotting over hers as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to disrupt any of the monitoring equipment. He was no less passionate for the caution in the kiss, and Rey had started to feel whole, to feel like herself again.

He kissed her breathless—which was precisely the problem.

The monitor that kept tabs on her vitals made an irritated buzzing noise, announcing that her heartrate was elevated. Poe pulled away, frowning, his hands sliding off her shoulders, away from her body. He sat upright, and opened his mouth to do something stupid like _apologize,_ and Rey opened her own to argue, to scold him for pulling away so easily.

Instead, a gasp rattled out of her chest. Poe turned pale, the color draining from his face, his stubble standing out in clear relief. He’d snagged the oxygen mask from next to her bed and tried to fit it over her head.

Rey waved it off, irritated. “I don’t need it,” she protested. “I’m fine, Poe, really. I just lost my breath for a second.” He hovered over her, hands waving around uselessly as he tried to make her comfortable, asking how he could help. Rey grabbed his sleeve. “You can help me by coming back down here and finishing what you started, Colonel,” she teased him, voice still somewhat hoarse.

Poe shook his head and kissed her hand, chastely, before settling back into his chair, away from her. He picked up his holonovel, and resumed reading, stroking her hand with his thumb. Rey could have punched him, if she had the energy.

“Nerf-herder,” she muttered. Poe didn’t even look up from his book, just smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

 _Fight me,_ she had thought into the Bond, already dropping off into sleep.

“Time and place, sweetheart,” he countered, still absentmindedly rubbing circles into her palm. “Time and place.”

~

It’s been two weeks, and he hasn’t kissed her since.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Poe.  
> Up Next: Let's put the "comfort" in "hurt/comfort," team.  
> (AKA the potential Return of the Smut)
> 
> (That was my longest chapter yet, I think--13 pages?)


	27. A Leave of Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben pays an unwanted visit; Poe asks for leave; Rey leaves the hospital; BB8 and BB9 try to help; Poe and Rey...you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: lots of emotional, maybe badly written smut after the BB units' scene

Ben has not seen the scavenger in weeks, not since she held onto him and begged him to come with her.

She’s been shutting him out; but the obstacle in the Bond is not one born of cruelty, but of mercy. The sentiment behind her block only causes him more anxiety. The questions of why she feels so protective in hindering their connection threaten to overwhelm him at all times of the day.

Ben decides that he needs answers. One night, some four weeks after he destroyed _The Sidious,_ he enters a Force-trance, and reaches once more for the signature most familiar to him in childhood.

Poe Dameron is shaving the last bit of stubble from his throat when he appears behind him.

The man looks exhausted, tense, grieved, even before he notices Ben Solo in his mirror.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He asks, almost calmly. He runs his razor under his faucet, and then snags a towel to pat his skin dry. He doesn’t turn around.

Part of Ben is irritated that the Supreme Leader’s presence doesn’t warrant one's full attention, so he doesn’t respond. 

The silence certainly gets a rise out of Poe. He throws his towel into the corner of the room, and then grabs the sides of the counter, shoulder muscles standing out in sharp relief as he braces himself. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“What happened to her?” Ben asks. He must know. He must know why she hasn’t spoken to him, hasn’t opened her mind to him. “Tell me she’s alright.”

“Alright,” Poe laughs. “You want to know if she’s _alright_.” Ben is frozen by fear, and waits for Poe to continue.

“Her heart stopped,” His voice, the voice that dominated most of Ben’s childhood, that kept the whispers of Snoke at bay when nothing else could, is unrecognizable. “Twice.” Poe turns around, finally, and leans against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest while he stares Ben down.

Kylo Ren is petrified. Colonel Poe Dameron does not relent.

“She was technically dead for two minutes. Did your _Bond_ tell you that?” Ben opens his mouth to talk, but Poe isn’t done.

“It took weeks of physical therapy before she could walk without help. Your people—” He wipes his hand over his mouth, as if trying to physically push the rage back inside, “Your people strung her up, carved her open like a science experiment. Her nervous system, shot to hell, _by your people._ She still screams from the pain. I don’t know how to help her, how to help her get over what you pieces of shit did to her.” Poe takes a deep, gulping breath, looking seconds away from falling apart.

“I didn’t order them to do that,” Ben finally manages to get a word in while Poe collects himself.

“Fuck you,” Poe grips the sink behind him. “Fuck you, Ben. You created a situation where they _thought_ they could do that. And the worst part is, I don’t think you’d care if it wasn’t Rey, if it wasn’t the girl you’re obsessed with. If that was any other kriffing person in the galaxy, you wouldn’t give a shit what those monsters _on your payroll_ did to them.”

“That isn’t true,” Ben protests. It isn’t. There are others he would care about: his mother, a Wookie, and the man before him, whose hatred for him is every bit as understandable as it is agonizing.

“Like fuck it isn’t. You think you love her? Because you felt guilty enough to cut her down from that table, and try to set things right? Where the fuck have you been, Ben?”

“I’ve—I’ve…” He’s stammering, like a frightened child. He didn’t know Poe Dameron, a perpetually sunny child and by all accounts unreasonably compassionate adult, was capable of such fury. It doesn’t feel like the jagged shards of rage associated with the Dark. No, this was something far worse, far more damning as it rips through the Force and into his soul.

Poe takes a step forward, shoving off the countertop. “She fucking asked for you, Ben,” he cannot breathe, he cannot think, and Poe still walks forward, yelling, “She fucking _called out_ for you. You, with your important _Bond_ that you seem to care so much about. When she was dying in that hospital bed, she asked for _you._ And I had to hold her hand and tell her you were on your way.” He laughs, a short and nasty sound, and Ben understands what true annihilation is. “I had to tell her that you were safe, and you’d be right there. She thought you’d come with her, that she’d managed to bring you back.” He had failed her. The pilot is incandescent in his anger, and Ben accepts it. He has failed her. She needed him, and he wasn’t there. Something in his heart locks into place.

Poe’s barely a foot away from him, now. “Was it worth it?” He whispers. “Was all this worth it? Was this part of your plan?”

 “No,” he admits. “She was never meant to feel any pain. You have to understand that.”

“Why?” Poe demands, loud again. “Why do I have to understand any of this?”

“Because,” Ben feels very, very small as he looks at a man half a foot shorter than he is. He doesn’t know how to finish the statement.

Because he does love her, and he doesn’t want that to be misunderstood.

Because he doesn’t want his mother to think he’s a monster.

Because he misses his brother, every day. He misses him, and besides the girl who has suffered so much on his behalf, Poe Dameron is the only person who has ever fought to keep Ben Solo around. And he cannot forget that kind of loyalty.

Poe doesn’t need an answer to keep going. “And you still think she’ll join you,” he mutters, looking at the wall behind Ben. “After everything you’ve done.”

“Yes,” Ben can answer that question, easily. “I’ve seen it. So has she. We both have.” Poe turns his attention back on him.

“What do you mean, you’ve both seen it?”

“Ask her,” he suggests, trying to make it sound anything other than petty, and probably failing. “Ask her what she’s seen. Ask her how she’s going to make her choice, when it’s time.”

“Her choice?” Poe looks angry, confused. “I thought your big plan was to drag her with you, drag her down into the Dark side, trap her there like some sick trophy.”

“No,” Ben scoffs. Poe could never understand, but he tries to explain anyway. “Why do you think I sent her back to you? It wasn’t time. The Force will allow our destinies to unfold when necessary. And it has to be her choice, when she makes it. I won’t take that away from her.”

Poe’s mouth opens, no doubt to yell some more, but Ben cuts him off. “Goodbye, pilot.” He tells him, fighting back the fondness that rears its head, even now, when the man before him would probably love to put a hole in his head. “Take care of the scavenger.”

He pulls away, and promises himself he won’t come back.

He’s broken worse promises.

**

The doctor clears Rey to leave Medical Bay five weeks after her return.

Poe has already been back on active duty for four weeks, helping Leia chase down several leads regarding the First Order’s next move. He hasn’t told anyone of Ben Solo’s unexpected appearance in his bathroom, and he has no intention of asking Rey what Ben meant regarding her upcoming choice. Instead, he pours himself into examining star charts, decrypting messages, conferring with other commanders, and trying to trace the movement of weapons from arms dealers to the First Order, in the hopes that they can set up a blockade somewhere down the road.

He’s a soldier after all, raised by soldiers, who’s never doubted his place in the military, using his hard-earned skills and natural-born talent to help the galaxy. When he’s not at work, he’s at Rey’s side. He has no doubt which he prefers, and he chooses not to ruminate on how his identity is beginning to slide from soldier to something more.

Poe’s been assigned to base, which he’s positive has everything to do with Leia’s tacit approval of his assistance in Rey’s recovery. While three years ago he would have gone stir-crazy stuck on the ground, especially _below_ ground, he’s beyond grateful for being grounded now.

And when he finds out that Rey’s been cleared, he puts in for leave immediately.

“General Organa,” he says, standing at attention, uniform freshly pressed, boots polished. “I would like to formally request a leave of absence.”

“You would, would you?” Leia’s face is, per usual, unimpressed.

“Yes. You will find that in my seven years of service to the Resistance, I have used less than five days of personal leave. I have almost 60 days of accrued leave, which I need to use, or lose. I am asking to use some of that leave now.”

“Surely not 60 days, Colonel,” Leia isn’t quite smiling, but he’s feeling slightly more optimistic.

“No, General.” He’s grinning, he can’t help it. “No, ten days would do just fine.”

“Request denied,” Leia says, impishly. Poe chokes slightly. “But ask for twenty, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

They shake hands on it, Leia squeezing far harder than necessary. She wanders off to file the paperwork, but not before tossing, “And take that girl on vacation somewhere pretty, Colonel,” over her shoulder.

Poe’s walking on clouds as he heads towards Med Bay.

He gets to Rey’s door, feeling suddenly nervous. It’s like he’s fifteen again, waiting outside a diplomat’s door, preparing to convince someone to let him take their daughter on a date. He has a sudden, ridiculous regret that he didn’t bring flowers.

When the door hisses open, he catches sight of Rey’s back as she pulls a soft tunic over her head.

He can count every vertebrae in her spine. Poe blinks a few times, trying to push past the grief in his throat.

Rey turns, sees him in the doorway, and breaks into a huge grin. And just like that, his anguish of the previous moment is gone, obliterated under the brilliance of her smile.

He crosses the room in seconds, and pulls her into a hug.

“You’re a free woman!” He’s so excited for her, a feeling echoed in the Bond. “What do you want to do first, Sunshine?”

 “Will you kiss me?” She asks, looking scared of the answer. “Please?”

 _You don’t have to ask me that, sweetheart._ He kisses her, trying to be mindful of her continued healing.

 _Kiss me properly, you nerf-herder._ Rey sends a jolt of desperate want into him, and he’s helpless, as always, against her. He cups her jaw in his hands and kisses her thoroughly, pouring every ounce of energy he has into demonstrating to her how much he cares for her. They break apart, panting, after a solid minute. 

“Now what?” Rey asks, pink-cheeked and radiant.

“Leia gave me four weeks’ leave,” Poe taps his finger on her nose. “We can go wherever you want,” he tells her. They’re free to go anywhere. He can show her the galaxy.

A curl of anxiety tangles through him. It’s not his own. Rey folds her arms across her stomach, and eyes him warily.

 _What is it, Sunshine_? He asks her, running his hand through her hair. It’s loose, brushed straight around her shoulders. It makes her look younger, more tired.

“I don’t think I want to see the galaxy,” she says, nervously. “I just want to go to our room.”

Gods, he loves her. He needs to tell her. Poe pulls her in tightly, wrapping his arms around her. She whispers into his chest, “I just want to go _home._ ”

Poe can work with that.

**

BB-8 is locked in a death-battle with BB-9E when they enter Poe’s bunk. They’re both tugging on a blanket with extended mechanical arms, chirping angrily at the other. Rey observes the scene with extreme amusement, still arm-in-arm with Poe.

[Mistress-Rey does not like her blankets to be tucked in!] Beebee trills, outraged. She snorts, quietly, trying not to attract the droids’ attention. Poe presses a light kiss into her temple.

[Foolish droid!] BB-9E has long lost the flat affectation from its First Order days. [The Jedi Commander Rey will be much safer if tucked in. This will reduce chances of falling out of bed by 83%]

[Master-Poe would _never_ let his Rey fall out of bed!] Beebee is beyond indignation. BB-9E screeches something about how “that does not compute.”

Poe clears his throat. “Guys?”

Both droids drop the blanket automatically and zoom over to the door.

[Master-Poe!]

[Colonel Dameron. You will be pleased to note the optimal bedding provided by myself—] the droid seems to struggle internally, briefly, rolling its optic unit over at the white and orange droid, [— _and_ the BB-8 unit, are now ready for use by The Jedi Commander Rey.]

There are at least ten extra blankets on the bed, as well as five pillows.

[They’re for you, Mistress-Rey] Beebee hoots in pleasure. [It was BB-9E’s idea. He said you get cold easily!]. It’s absolutely true; Rey doesn’t think she’s been warm since _Sidious._ The extra blankets mean she might not jolt awake, freezing and terrified, with as much frequency as she had in the MedBay.

“Niney, you clever boy!” The black unit does a celebratory lap around her feet.

“Thanks, buddy.” Poe pats his droid on the head.

[We will move out of the way so you can go to sleep!] Beebee announces, already rolling over to its charging station.

Something quite literally clicks into place in the ex-First Order droid’s circuit board. BB-9E regards Poe with extreme suspicion. [BB-8 informed me that this is where the Jedi Commander Rey sleeps.]

“We sleep together,” Rey explains.

To which Beebee blurts out, [So they can make love!]

BB-9E makes a sound very similar to gears grinding together. Rey waits to see if smoke is going to rise from the top of its head. The droid rolls over to Poe, and extends a small arm at him, as if it were pointing. [Sleeping only!] It orders. It turns so it can bump into Rey’s leg. [I will be right here, Jedi Commander, if this filthy Resistance pilot will not let you sleep. Sleep is required for optimal healing!]

“You are too sweet, Niney,” she croons at it, kneeling down to rub its head. “It goes against your programming, entirely.”

[You spared our life, Jedi Commander,] it beeps soberly, as if addressing royalty. [We are not sweet. We are yours.]

***

Rey kisses him first as they lie next to each other in bed that night.

Poe immediately responds, body falling into old habits as he rolls closer to her, hands beginning their typical, thorough exploration of her body.

He remembers as soon as the sharp bones of her ribs cut into his hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll just…”

Rey’s hand cups his cheek. “Do you not want me anymore?” She asks, tremulously. “Because I know you saw the transmission. Rose told me.” _She told me they had to sedate you for 24 hours. Is it that you can’t think about me anymore, sexually? Do I disgust you?_ Her lack of confidence cuts through her, slicing wounds into Poe’s soul.

“No,” he says, adamantly. _No, no. I always want you. Always._

He kisses her again, firmly, trying to prove his point. _I was just holding back because I wasn’t sure you were ready to be touched like that. Not after what happened._ A jumble of images flashes through his mind: her nerve damage and the weeks of painstaking physical therapy; the bruises that took days of healing and bacta to fade; the way she still flinches when an unfamiliar droid rolls by her without warning.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Rey says, eyes wide as she examines his face. Her small hand comes to brush through his hair. Poe closes his eyes and resists the urge to purr. “You’d never hurt me, not on purpose.”

 _No, I won’t._ He promises. _I’ll spend my life making sure you never get hurt again._

“That’s not up to you,” she reminds him. She gives him another sweet kiss. _That’s up to the Force._

“Then I’ll fight the Force if I have to,” he argues. Poe lifts himself so he can move to hover over Rey’s body, weight entirely on his forearms. _Is this okay?_ He asks on the way down to kiss her.

“Yes,” she laughs. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip, asking for entry without words. Rey complies, hands coming to tangle in his hair, the way he likes. In the past, he’d operate on muscle memory from here. But it’s different with Rey. It always has been, but it’s especially different now. He wants to be present for this, present for her.

He traces his tongue lightly inside her mouth, humming in pleasure when her own tongue strokes against his. They deepen the kiss, and Rey’s long legs come to wrap around Poe’s hips, pulling him flush against her body.

Poe groans at the sensation, the limited friction already driving him mad. "How far do you want to go?" He’d rather die than cause a nerve attack.

"The doctor cleared me for sex a week ago,"Rey smiles at him. "And I’ve never stopped wanting you. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up."

"Don’t have to tell me twice," he laughs, trying to cover up the intensity of emotion that courses through him at her declaration _._ He gives her one, short kiss on the lips, and then sits up to remove his shirt, her legs falling away from him.

Rey stares at him in a way that makes him feel like the most powerful man in the galaxy. He’ll never get tired of the way she looks at him. Like _he’s_ everything, the way she is to him.

His hands move to brush over her bent knees. He trips his fingers along her thighs, and then grabs the edge of her tunic, intending to slide it up her body so he can feel her skin against his, for the first time in weeks.

Rey grabs his wrist before he can complete his mission. He looks up, waiting for her to tell him to stop. “I’m still healing,” she says, voice high with trepidation. He can see her throat working, as she tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not…I wasn’t much to look at before, but there’s…just, I don’t want you to be surprised.” She hadn’t told him to stop, but this is far worse.

His throat tightens as he looks at his girl. In his time as a pilot for the New Republic, and then for the Resistance, Poe’s been to over two hundred planets, many with specific geographic anomalies that could best be described as breathtaking. All those years traveling the galaxy, seeing its wonders, and Rey’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s always going to think that. He hopes she can hear all of that in the Bond.

Poe smooths his thumbs over her hipbones, and thinks, _you’re perfect._

Rey’s still shaking her head in disagreement when he begins to peel her shirt up, slowly. Very slowly. He wants to give her time to back out, to tell him to stop. She doesn’t, and soon the shirt is all the way off, and Rey’s entire upper body is bare before him.

She doesn’t say anything, and other than a quiet apprehension in the Bond, her mind is silent as well, waiting for his reaction.

Poe had seen her while she lay in Medical, recovering. He’d read her chart, asked the doctors ten questions a minute, badgered every nurse for updates. He knows, then, what happened to create this map of suffering on her body.

Even after weeks of healing, it’s hard to look at what Hux did to her.

The surge of protectiveness is almost too much for him to speak through. “I’m gonna burn the First Order down,” he whispers. “We’re going to burn it all down.” Rey nods, and then reaches out a hand, snags a loop on his belt, and tugs. Poe’s all too willing to obey, dropping his body so that he’s lying between her legs. He kisses her, and then remembers that he has a specific mission tonight.

“I love you,” he admits, looking her in the eyes. He feels a cascade of emotion from Rey’s side of the Bond: fragile hope, happiness, reciprocation. “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much it makes me stupid, and I'm not that smart to begin with.” Rey makes a small sound of disagreement, and he kisses her for it. “I’ve loved you for so long. I know you said it on Scarif, and I wanted to say it back, but then I lost you.” He knows he’s probably going to cry, but he has to get through this. She has to know. “I’ve wanted to say it for months. I’ve loved you for so long. I think I’ve loved you since that first night.”

 _Crait?_ She asks, confused by the timeline.

 _No._ He laughs. “That was something else, though. No, I’ve loved you since you found me at my lowest in the middle of the night, shaking from a bad dream. You were never anything but kind, and good, and _kriff_ ,” he kisses her again, because he always wants to, but especially now, “You are the easiest person to love that I’ve ever met.”

“I love you, too,” she smiles at him, shyly.

“I know,” he can’t help the cocky grin. She loves him. He doesn’t understand why.

“I love you so much, it should be impossible.” His grin falls off his face at the sincerity he sees in Rey’s face. “And I’d talk about it more, but I’d rather do something that involves less talking.” She lifts her hips to grind into his, and Poe remembers that they’re both half-naked, in bed, and they love each other. They should probably do something about all that.

He slides down her body until his head is near her hipbone. He presses a fervent kiss into the skin there.

“I love you,” he whispers in the hollow under the bone, which is strikingly more prominent than before. He pulls off her leggings, slowly, running his thumbs up and down her thighs, her shins, her ankles.

He’s at her feet now, kneeling in worship for the perfect woman laid out before him. Poe unbuckles his own pants, and works them off his body, and then returns to Rey, forever trapped in her gravity, his galaxy, his love.

**

Poe places reverent kisses on every inch of her exposed skin, looking past the still-healing scars. He whispers his love for her after every kiss, burying the words into her skin.

The worst mark is the faded starburst, almost like a burn, right over her heart, from where Hux had injected the neurotoxin. Poe kisses around it, and then over the scar.

When he’s done, he pulls back to stare at her, running his hands up and down her body, a deliberate circuit that makes her squirm from the vulnerability.

Her body had always been useful, before. It’s behaving, right now, the way it’s supposed to, but she hates waiting for inevitable flare-up, the phantom of pain to come back to her. Her body was useful, before, and now it waits to betray her. She was never beautiful and now she isn’t even useful.

"That isn’t true." Poe’s adamant denial courses through her as he curls a hand around her jaw, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Don’t think about yourself that way, please, sweetheart," he looks wounded as he begs her. 

 _And you’re beautiful,_ he assures her through the Bond. Rey swallows, not believing him. _You are. I’ll tell you every day, a hundred times, until you believe me. And even then, I’ll tell you. You’re the most beautiful thing in this galaxy, or the next._ Tears that have nothing to do with lingering pain fill her eyes.

He leans down to kiss her neck, right hand continuing to move steadily down. Rey gasps as he begins to tease at her entrance, his mouth still biting and worrying at her neck in a way that makes her whole body warm in a way it hasn’t been for what feels like an eternity.

Her weeks of therapy have helped re-route her nerves, clearing her system of the toxins that had ravaged it. The pleasant sensations born from Poe’s patient and insistent ministrations are intense, to say the least. It’s like she’s re-learning how to feel _good._

She tells him that, tells him that it feels good, what feels good, and he smiles against her skin as his clever fingers work their way into her body, listening to her advice, her gasps.

"Fuck, you’re perfect,"Poe moans into her neck. “You ready for me, sweetheart?” Rey shivers, fighting the urge to look away as he pulls back to look into her eyes.

He sees the involuntary movement, and reaches down to grab at a blanket. “You cold?” Rey can’t do anything but fight away tears as he pulls the blanket over them. “I’ve got you, Sunshine,” he murmurs, coming back down to cover her body with his own. _Is this position okay_? He’s probably remembering how much she's enjoyed riding him in the past, the thrill of control she got from sitting in his lap. But, she likes this, too.

She feels so impossibly safe, and she tells him as her fingers tangle in his curls, “More than okay. Perfect.”

“I love you,” he says, earnestly as he guides himself between her legs. “I love you,” the words come out as a groan as he slowly fills her.

Rey’s hands scrabble at his back. It’s so good, too good. She’d forgotten how good he felt inside of her.

“I love you,” she repeats after him. “I love you so much.”

They move, together, slowly, creating a peaceful but intense rhythm that separates them from everything else in the galaxy. There is no urgency in it, and when she reaches her climax, it comes as a pleasant surprise, washing away the weeks of agony and tension. She finds enough focus to wipe the tears from his eyes, as he whispers his intent to share this with her, for as long as she’ll let him. Poe stutters to a stop when he finally follows her over the edge.

 _Forever,_ she wants to tell him, but she's lost to the aftershocks of pleasure.  _I’d share this with you forever, if you let me._

**

“You never did tell me about this,” she mumbles, half-awake. Her fingers are circling the ring around his neck as she lies in his arms, cocooned in as many blankets as she would let him wrap around her frail body.

“It was my mother’s,” he tells her. “Her name was Shara Bey. She was a pilot, the best pilot who ever lived, and I loved her very much.” Rey makes a small noise of acknowledgment, sliding into sleep.

A few minutes later, after her breathing evens, he says, “I’ve been waiting to give it to the right partner.” He takes the hand she’s resting on his chest, and holds it delicately in his own. He strokes a thumb over her knuckles as he continues, softly.

“I was waiting for you. Even when I didn’t really understand what I was waiting for.” Rey doesn’t respond, as she’s asleep, but he hadn’t wanted her to. She needs to heal, recover from her ordeal, remember who she is and why she fights. Poe cannot, in good conscience, propose to her when there’s so much going on around her. When he asks, it will be at the right time. If she says yes when he asks, it will be because she wants to marry him, for no other reason than because she wants to.

Poe holds her for a few more hours, studying her face at rest. He loves her, so much. He wants to stand between her and anyone who seeks to harm her. It’s absurd for him to feel this protective of a woman so powerful she ripped a dozen ships from the sky with nothing more than her mind, but he thinks something in him will always be irrational when it comes to Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will also be fluff (he has four weeks of vacation, for crying out loud)


	28. Come Away with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe's nightmares find new ways to torment him; Rey has a nightmare of her own, and then a panic attack. She accepts Poe's previous offer to get away from it all; they journey to several planets, and Rey gains some fans.
> 
> Someone makes a surprise appearance; and no, it isn't Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: character death in a dream; panic attack; nightmare/dream where a VERY sweet character goes totally OOC and does some horrible things  
> Of course my fluff needs to have drama
> 
> Less-dire warning: brief smut towards the end

_The escort shuttle enters the hangar bay, landing gear extended. Poe sprints for it, his lower back shouting in protest. Apparently ten years in a cockpit have caught up with him._

_The second the ship brakes, the ramp lowers, and Poe barely waits for it to touch ground before he leaps onto it._

_“Rey!” he shouts. Rey is back. She came back to him._

_He sees her head against the seat. Blood drips off the armrest. But that’s okay because she came back. He can fix this. He can save her._

_“Rey?” He’s right behind her, and as he walks around the front of the seat, he feels his heart stutter, and stop._

_Rey’s eyes stare forward, unseeing. A trickle of blood comes out of her mouth._

_Ben Solo’s voice issues from the console, saying “A gift for you, Colonel.”_

_She’s dead. He was too late._

Poe wakes, and can barely get a grip on himself as he remembers where he is. Rey’s asleep, and he runs a hand over her arm, thumb finding her radial pulse. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply as he feels her heartbeat thud, reassuringly, against his skin.

“Poe?” Fuck. He woke her up.

“Go back to sleep, Sunshine,” he whispers. “I’m going to go get breakfast.” Rey doesn’t need to be told twice, and falls back asleep. Poe looks at her for another minute before shaking his head and getting out of bed.

He slips on a shirt over his sleep pants and tucks his feet into soft boots. As he walks down the hall towards mess, he doesn’t return any of the confused glances.

“Thought you and the Jedi went on vacation,” Mordak asks him when Poe requests a tray of Rey’s favorite foods. She’s still not that interested in eating, but he’s going to keep trying.

“She just wants to rest,” he explains, softly. Mordak grunts in agreement, and gives him heaping portions of everything.

“Take care of her,” the cook tells him gruffly as he turns to leave.

Poe nods. “That’s the plan.”

He returns to the room less than ten minutes after he left. Rey blinks awake when he sits back down on the bed, and Poe smiles at her. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and smiles back at him. She isn’t wearing a blessed thing besides the shirt he wore yesterday, and her hair is mussed from sleeping. There’s definitely drool on her cheek. Rey is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He offers her some food, plain nutriflakes, and she shakes her head, trying to hide her face in the pillow.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he wheedles. “Just a bite?” She sighs and sits up, grabbing the offered spoon.

As it nears her mouth, she grows steadily grey-faced. Eventually she manages to put a flake in her mouth, but she looks so uncomfortable Poe holds out his own hand with a sigh so she can spit it out.

“Sorry,” she whispers, cheeks burning.

“Don’t apologize, Rey,” he says, staring at the floor. He just wishes he knew how to help her.

[Jedi Commander,] BB-9E beeps by the bedside. [I have commandeered some biscuits in my search for suitable food stuffs.] It opens a small slot on the side of its body, and out rolls several round crackers, onto the bedspread. [They are tasteless, and are engineered to provide nutrients. They dissolve into sugar and water, and may not create any disgust.]

Rey smiles at the droid and takes a cracker. She sniffs it, trying to hide the movement from BB-9E, who merely rolls closer to her so it can monitor her reaction. Rey takes a small nibble, pauses, and then swallows. Poe’s eyes bug out of his head.

“Thanks, Niney,” she says. And then she takes another, actual bite.

Poe stares at BB-9E. Showed up by a First Order droid. _Huh._

When she goes to the ‘fresher with Beebee as bodyguard, Poe kisses Niney on the dome. “Thank you,” he says, earnestly. “Thank you.”

BB-9E rolls away, making a sound similar to a huff. [You Resistance fighters are very tactile. Too free with your emotions] the droid beeps at him, sounding less ruffled than it probably could.

“That’s how we’re gonna win the war, buddy,” Poe says grinning. “We’re gonna hug the First Order to death.”

The droid fixes him with a look that he hopes it will never teach to Beebee.

**

BB-8 leaves her side the second she strips down. [Let me know if you need anything!] it beeps as it zips away.

She turns the water on, testing the temperature with her palm before stepping under the stream.

Rey begins to run her hands through her hair, longer than it’s ever been, and then reaches for the shampoo. “Beebee,” she calls to the droid now in the corner. “Why are you facing that way?”

 [Master-Poe told me it was impolite to look at naked women without permission.]

She snorts as she imagines the reason for Poe instating such a rule. She swallows some water by accident, coughing as it burns on the way down.

Beebee trills anxiously from the corner. [Do you require assistance, Mistress-Rey?]

Waving a hand dismissively, she says, “Don’t worry about me, Beebee, I’m fine.” She’s enjoying the pleasantly warm water too much to have Poe running in to hover over her, trying to fix a problem that isn’t even there this time. She pauses for a moment, hands stilling in her hair as she works up a lather.

“Beebee,” she says. “Can I ask why you’re suddenly calling me ‘Mistress’? I meant to ask you yesterday when you were fighting with Niney.”

There’s an incredibly strangled beep, and then: [ _Classified_!]. Rey rolls her eyes but continues washing her hair without comment.

When Rey emerges from the ‘fresher ten minutes later wearing nothing but a towel, she walks over to where Poe’s standing. He puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses her on the forehead.

“I’m going to head to the gym,” he tells her, tilting his head to kiss her on the nose. He’s wearing loose clothing under his brown jacket, the one Rey often steals from him in the morning.

“Sounds productive,” Rey comments. “I’m going to take a nap.” She isn’t kidding. Standing under the soothing pressure of the ‘fresher drained her unexpectedly.

“Mmh. Good idea,” he kisses her on the lips. “I’ll be back soon. And then maybe I’ll join you?” He punctuates the question with another, longer kiss, toying with the fringe of her towel.

Rey shakes her head at him, swatting him playfully as he scoots out the door with Beebee in tow. She yawns, and pats Niney on the head before changing into a warm tunic and leggings. She’s asleep seconds after she lies down, curled around Poe’s pillow, the strong scent of her boyfriend wrapped around her comfortingly. 

~

_The forest howls against the wind. It cuts into her face, dragging hair into her eyes._

_She didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy. She knows better now._

_The sound of a lightsaber igniting cuts through the air, and through her soul. She reluctantly ignites her own, gripping the hilt wearily. She’s so tired of this fight. Rey turns to face him anyway._

_“Tell me you choose him,” he hisses. “Tell me you don’t want me.”_

_“It’s not like that, Ben,” she insists. “That’s not the choice, here.”_

_“What is it then,” he demands, even as he lunges forward to strike at her._

_“It’s more than that,” she says. “It’s more than **us.** ” _

_“Liar!” He lashes out at her again. “Choose, now!”_

_One must die. One must fall._

_Ben, in his fury and carelessness, leaves his side open._

_Rey doesn’t take the opening._

_“Fool,” he twists away from her again, spinning his blade in his hand like he had on Starkiller. “You won’t kill me, but I will destroy you.” His blade misses her nose by inches. “I will not hesitate. I hate you.”_

_Rey is so tired. Her legs hurt, her arms ache. She can feel her nerves crackling, body still not fully healed. “Ben,” she pleads. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”_

_Kylo Ren laughs through Ben’s mouth. “Then you’re even more a fool than I am.”_

_Their lightsabers are loose in their respective grips as he walks towards her, grabs her chin, and forces her to look up at him. “I hate you,” Kylo whispers, his intent clear in his eyes. “Because I love you.” He leans down, and for one terrifying moment, Rey thinks he’s going to kiss her._

She gasps awake, and tries to sit up. She can’t, because she’s strapped to a table.

 _Am I still asleep?_ It’s unclear. Everything is so cloudy. Her nerves are beginning to scream in protest. She looks down, and sees a droid jamming a needle into her ankle bone. She bites back a groan of pain. _Breathe. Just breathe,_ Luke Skywalker’s voice whispers in her ear.

Another droid rolls up, and skates a blade down her arm. It looks like BB-8, but it isn’t him. It isn’t. She can’t tell anymore. Panic rises in her chest, she can’t focus. The Force is gone, Luke is gone, it’s all gone. The droids dig harder.

“Stop it,” she begs.

“They’ll stop it when I tell them too.” A cool, mechanical voice informs her. Rey stiffens. That isn’t the clipped, accented voice of Armitage Hux. Kylo Ren walks out of the shadows, as he had a year ago on _Starkiller._ The sight of his helmet is shocking now, after she’s grown so accustomed to seeing his face. “Welcome back, Rey.” The angle is all wrong as she gazes up at him. _Aren’t you a little short?_ She wants to ask, inexplicably.

She manages to laugh. “I strongly encourage you to work on your welcoming techniques.”

His answering chuckle is cold as he strokes a gloved finger down her face. It feels wrong, and not only because she doesn’t want him to touch her. His hand feels different than it had before. “I knew you’d come back.”

He grabs an instrument off the table, and pushes it into her stomach, hard. Rey bucks, and retches against the burst of pain. “What? Do you think I came back because I just couldn’t stay away?” she gasps, trying to remind herself that this is a dream. _Isn’t it?_

“No,” his laugh is even colder than before as he tosses the instrument aside, running his fingers almost tenderly over the wound he made on her stomach. “Because you promised.”

Her chest is tighter than it had been when her lungs were collapsing. She knows why this feels so different, so wrong. Her captor’s hands go to the edge of his helmet, releasing the locking mechanism.

Kylo Ren lifts his mask to reveal the handsome face of Poe Dameron. He smiles at her, teeth bared, his brown eyes cold and distant.

His hand presses against her throat. “Hey, sweetheart.”

~

Rey screams into consciousness, thrashing so hard she falls out of bed. She grips her head in her hands and curls her body into a protective position.

She blocks her Bond with Poe as well as she can, and prays he didn’t see her dream. It hurts to think of him, so close to the nightmare.

 _Poe would never hurt me,_ she thinks. _He promised._

The sides of the room close in around her. The walls are grey, and sterile. She looks at the bed and all she sees is a table dripping with her blood. Every breath is a sob. Every breath is agony.

She can’t take it anymore. She can’t be here. Rey leaps to her feet, and staggers for the door.

BB-9E is at her side in an instant. [Jedi Commander Rey] it beeps. [How can I assist?]

“Come with me,” she begs it. “I need to get out of here.” It follows her without another word.

**

Poe’s been in the rec for at least an hour and a half, taking his pent-up frustration and rage out on a punching bag. His nightmare from the morning still roils his stomach. His knuckles ache from the effort to distract himself—he tore through his wrappings more than once, and the rapidly cooling ooze of blood tells him he’ll need to dress more than one open wound before returning to Rey.

He’s stretching, Beebee singing softly in the corner, when BB-9E hurtles into the room. [Colonel Dameron] The droid slams into his leg, beeping urgently. [Jedi Commander Rey needs immediate assistance.]

“Fuck.” Poe doesn’t even stop to ask, just jumps up and sprints towards the open door. Beebee follows at his heels. He turns left, towards their room, but almost immediately trips over BB-9E.

[Not that way!] It screeches. [She is this way!]

Poe follows the droid, bewildered, as it leads him the opposite direction. He barrels down the hallway, Beebee still speeding along beside him. Startled soldiers jump out of the way, but Poe pays them no mind.

BB-9E says, [She is experiencing an System Error!] and then something too fast for Poe to translate into Basic. The unit behind him trills in confirmation, edging around Poe to get in the lead.

There’s a horrible feeling of déjà vu as he tells Beebee, “Go on ahead, buddy, we’ll catch up.”

Startling recognition hits him as he rounds a corner a minute later. At the end of the hallway is a door he knows, the door Rey led him through on his birthday. _Why is she out there?_  

He bangs on the door, painfully aware that he doesn’t know the access code.

Beebee has already jammed a metal intstrument from its belly into the panel. After thirty seconds of fiddling, the door hisses open, and Poe barely stops to thank it before he hurls himself outside.

It’s pouring rain again, like it had eight months ago.

His heart slams in his chest when he spots her, kneeling in the mud, arms wrapped loosely around her middle, eyes squeezed shut and neck bent towards the earth. Her hair is plastered around her face.

“Wait there,” he shouts to the two BB-units waiting in the doorway. He jogs to Rey’s side, slipping in the mud as he falls to his knees next to her.

“Sweetheart?’ He asks, over the falling rain. She flinches. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He can’t feel a damn thing through the Bond, frustrated not for the first time over her superior control of their connection. Rey doesn’t respond right away. While he waits, he feels caught on the edge of a knife, caught between a desire to pull her to his body and comfort her the way he knows best, and a fear of causing more pain, knowing that the worst thing for a nerve attack is unwanted physical contact.

He can’t wait anymore. “Rey,” he says. “Rey, baby, are you in pain?” She laughs softly, eyes still shut, the weight of an immense sadness evident in her face as she shakes her head. _Not in pain,_ she says in his mind. The Bond cracks open, and Poe holds his breath.

“I wanted to go outside,” She says, eyes closed but the tears finding a way out, anyway. “I just wanted to go outside.”

The cocky flyboy who thinks he knows best, the one that still lives somewhere inside him, wants to scoop Rey off the ground and carry her inside, to cradle her head against his chest, and protect her from every possible evil in the galaxy. But that wouldn’t be giving Rey what she needs. She clearly needs to push through this, to talk about it, here.

Ignoring his gut instinct, Poe instead takes his jacket off and wraps it around her narrow shoulders, and they kneel together in the rain. He sends his patience through the Bond, wordlessly reassuring her that he’ll wait for her to talk.

Almost five minutes later, she speaks.

“I spent my whole life waiting on Jakku,” the rainwater falls into her face as she tilts her head back. “Stuck in one spot.” He drapes an arm around her waist, tentatively, reading her profile for any sign that she doesn’t want him to touch her right now. He doesn’t get one.

“I love it here,” she whispers. “I do. It’s where I got to know you, it’s where we fell in love.” Poe swallows against sudden tears. “And I know I said that I didn’t want to leave, but for some reason I can’t bear to stay here one more minute.”

Poe understands all too well the compulsion of wanderlust. He still doesn’t speak, and waits for her to finish, to ask the question he can feel forming.

“I’ll want to come back, of course. But, can we please go? I want to go somewhere. Anywhere.”

The rain is beginning to slow. He instinctively recognizes the sound, and he lets the hum of the water surround him as he closes his eyes briefly, breathing in slowly. There’s a strange feeling expanding in his chest, and when he opens his eyes, he answers her question, the statement feeling more like an oath.

“I’ll take you everywhere, sweetheart.”

***

As they pack _Sunshine_ later that day, Chewbacca wanders up to Poe’s side. The large Wookie warbles something at him, gesturing at the ship.

“I’m going to show her the galaxy,” he says to the Wookie, hoping that he’s answered the question.

Chewbacca roars something, and then reaches out to poke Poe in the chest, leaving his claw near his neckline. Startled, Poe looks down. The Wookie didn’t poke him in the chest, but on his necklace.

There’s a quieter roar, as Chewbacca taps the ring, and then flicks his eyes pointedly over at Rey, who’s speaking with Leia, a smile on both women’s faces. His steady gaze returns to Poe’s face, the question obvious in his eyes.

Poe realizes that this is the first time he has a good answer to “what are your intentions with my daughter.”

He laughs, understanding now, and sheepish from it. “I’m going to ask her, yeah. When the time is right.”

Chewbacca drops his hand, and roars again. Before Poe can try to decipher it, Rey’s voice pipes up from a few feet away:

“When will _what_ be?” She’s eyeing them both suspiciously when they turn to look at her.

Poe smiles, and tries to nonverbally communicate with Chewbacca that this would be a great time to lie.

“He wanted to know when we’d be back!” He nudges the Wookie. “And I was about to tell him we’d be back in fifteen days.”

Chewie doesn’t miss a beat as he howls in agreement. Poe’s still grinning as he lifts Rey’s bag into the cargo hold of _Sunshine._

Of course the Wookie wouldn’t mind a few white lies. Poe had forgotten who his best friend had been.

**

Their first stop is somewhere called Nakadia, Poe informs her as they take their seats.

Her Bond with Ben lies dormant, almost completely gone. She suspects that has more to do with him than her. She hasn’t seen him since he sent her away from _The Sidious,_ except in dreams.

Rey doesn’t worry about him eavesdropping or listening in on her thoughts. She feels more in control of their connection than ever, even in the face of her growing concern over the Force vision she keeps receiving of the forest.

She tries not to worry about anything as she curls in the co-pilot’s seat aboard _Sunshine_ and watches Poe fiddle with the controls. His joy is tangible, lighting up the entire cockpit as he initiates take off.

“Are you going to buckle up?” He asks her, lifting an eyebrow at her posture.

“I trust you,” Rey says. She does. She wants to look at Poe with little effort, and this is the best position for that.

Poe tsks in disapproval. “I’m sorry, miss, but your current position is in violation of at least sixteen safety rules as provided by the _Resistance Naval Flight and Standard Regulations Guidebook.”_ He reaches across her body, one hand still on the dashboard, and snags the seatbelt. He pulls it across her body and manages to buckle it in without making her sit upright.

“That’ll do,” he nods in mock-seriousness before straightening up and returning his full attention to the controls.

Rey watches him as he engages the thrusters with ease, tilting the ship back so they can gain enough velocity to escape the gravity of the planet. He’s grinning wildly as they shoot through atmo, the ship not even rattling as it bursts through into space.

“Next stop, Nakadia,” he announces.

“What’s on Nakadia?” She asks, reaching out to rub his elbow, needing to touch him somehow. He leans down to kiss her fingertips quickly, eyes still looking out the transparent canopy, before answering, “It’s a small farm planet in the Mid-Rim. Small towns, good people. I know large crowds stress you out sometimes, so I figured we’d start small before we try something like Naboo or Spira.” Rey doesn’t know what either of those places are, but her throat tightens all the same from his thoughtfulness.

“I love you,” she whispers, still stroking his arm.

Poe flips a switch and the _Sunshine_ bursts into Hyperspace. The pilot smacks the release on his seatbelt and shifts forward quickly, one hand coming to the back of her head as he kisses her thoroughly.

“I love you, too,” He murmurs against her mouth.

Rey’s silent as he readjusts his seat and returns his attention to the dashboard, his ears slightly pink. When she’s sure he’s settled back down, she asks, cheekily, “And how many rules from the _Resistance Naval Flight and Standard Regulations_ _Guidebook_ did you just break?”

“Not as many as I’ll break when I eject you from this ship, Commander,” he says sternly. He looks over at her, large grin betraying his threat. “Gods, I should write up whoever taught you how to flirt. It’s downright dangerous.”

“That’d be you, Colonel,” she reminds him solemnly. She closes her eyes and basks in the utter contentment and happiness she feels washing out of Poe, flooding the X-Wing and settling deep into her heart.

***

Nakadia is beautiful, and Rey’s first action on the planet is to roll in the long grass, exalting in the sweet smell of the nearby flower fields. Poe’s still at the X-Wing, instructing BB-8 and BB-9E (who had been adamant in joining them on their journey) to stay with the ship in case they need to power it up quickly. BB-9E is much more accepting of the order, she can tell from here: Beebee looks sulky as it rolls back to its station.

Poe looks up, grinning, and catches her eye. Rey loves him so much.

He can hear her through the Bond, and his response of _I love you_ is automatic, powerful.

They walk towards the village, hand in hand.

Walking around for hours, resting when Rey’s lungs begin to ache, they make their final stop for the day at the market. Rey keeps her hood up, hiding the face that’s probably on every Wanted announcement in the galaxy. She smiles at Poe’s back as he barters energetically with a trader over a basket of Muja fruits.

Rey feels someone tugging at her elbow. Startled, she looks around, and then down.

A small girl is holding her cloak. “Excuse me, miss,” she says, eyes round. “But are you a Jedi?”

Her lightsaber must have slipped through her cloak at some point. Rey doesn’t see the point in lying to the child, so she leans down and says, “Yes, but it’s a secret.”

The child nods, solemnly. “I won’t tell anyone.” She bites her lip, and looks over her shoulder. “But…”

“But what?”

“But, can you meet my friends?” The girl asks quickly, eyes shining with nervous anticipation.

Rey feels a bubble of light burst in her chest. The innocence of the child is undeniable: there is no artifice here, only excitement. Rey takes the girl by the hand. “Go on,” she encourages her, and lets the girl lead her through the market to a courtyard.

“We live here,” the girl says, gesturing around. Rey looks around, understanding immediately.

There are children of all species, here. The buildings around the courtyard are close together, and they’re worn down, but not dirty nor neglected. Small touches of personality adorn the place, hand-drawn chalk pictures on the walls and homemade toys. Out of most of the windows peek pairs of eyes in small faces.

As the children begin to emerge from their hiding spots, Rey understands.

They’re orphans, just like her.

**

Poe’s heart pounds out of his chest when he realizes that he’s lost sight of Rey. She had been wearing a forest green cape over her tunic, the hood pulled up to hide her face—but what if someone had recognized her anyway?

Images of her at the mercy of Armitage Hux tear through his mind. Poe begins to push through the street, head whipping around, desperate for a sign of her. There’s no sign of distress in the Bond, just an inexplicable sense of belonging.

He finds her in the Force, and lets instinct guide him to a semi-hidden courtyard. He comes to a halt in the entrance.

Rey kneels in the middle of a group of children.

There are dozens of them, the less brave ones peeking out from windows as they watch the woman in their midst. He has never seen Rey look so happy, and the children look equally joyful as they shout and laugh and skip around her.

Poe has never spared much thought to children, never thought he'd have a chance to be a father. He enjoyed being one, and has often considered the abstract concept of kids as irrelevant, even if vaguely pleasant. Seeing Rey’s face alight with joy as she accepts tokens, mostly flowers, from her tiny admirers, seeing her hands, which still often shake from slow-to-heal nerve damage, reaching out to hold the little ones close to her fragile body, seeing the excitement that builds in the small courtyard between adult and child alike—seeing this makes something indescribable and unnamed settle, low in Poe’s gut.

No. He has a word for this. _Longing._

Shara’s ring burns against his skin as he navigates a sudden, undeniable yearning for a future he wasn’t aware he’d ever want.

*******

Later, when they lie together on a pallet in a small, borrowed shelter, Poe looks up at Rey in nothing short of wonderment as she rocks back and forth over him, her eyes closed against the pleasure. Her hair is still braided in a crown around her head, the flowers she received earlier still woven into the plaits. She looks like a goddess, and Poe tries his best to worship her properly.  

When her legs begin to shake from the effort, he sits up, careful not to dislodge her, and slides back until his shoulders rest against the wall and folds his legs until he’s cross-legged. He lets her take him back inside her, and then clutches her hips, still so cautious. They move slowly, kissing lazily, until he can’t take it anymore, until he has to unfold his legs and push his feet against the floor as he holds her close to him, flush against his chest as he speeds up.

As she grinds against him, trying to match his pace, he whispers the only truth he knows into her hair.

_Te amo, te adoro, te quiero._

And when she sleeps in his arms that night, before he surrenders himself to sleep, he spends countless minutes repeating that same truth to the galaxy as he strokes a hand gently up and down her thin arm.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

**

They leave Nakadia the next day, and when she asks Poe if they can come back one day, he kisses her hand and promises her they can go wherever she wants, whenever she wants.

“As soon as the war is over,” he adds, softly, as an afterthought.

Her stomach tightens uncomfortably, remembering the First Order and the ever-present shadow of its evil. This is a vacation, she reminds herself, just part of your recovery. And then it’s back to the war.

She prays to the Force that she will get to return to Nakadia one day, to see her small friends again. She prays that Poe will be by her side when she does.

***

When they finally land on Naboo, it’s the middle of the night. Exiting the ship, they’re met with C-3PO himself. He’s as obsequious as ever, grandly sweeping them into what he insists was Leia’s mother’s “summer cottage,” but Rey is fairly convinced was more a “palace.” She doesn’t have the energy to fight him over the semantics as he leads them to the master bedroom, and she falls asleep in the large, comfortable bed immediately, not even registering Poe’s weight as he settles in behind her.

She wakes without dreaming a single thing a few hours later. Poe’s arm is slung around her waist, and he breathes heavily against her neck. Rey manages to turn until she’s facing him. His face is relaxed in sleep, and she enjoys watching his lovely features for a few, stolen moments.

Rey’s considering waking him up, so she can demonstrate just how lovely she thinks he is, when something urges her to get out of bed. She can’t ignore it, the feeling tugging at her navel. Rey kisses Poe softly, and he makes a soft noise. _Sleep,_ she whispers to him in the Bond, forehead pressing into his. _Just sleep, my love._ He nuzzles her, and then rolls onto his back, arm falling away from her waist. He snores, dramatically, and Rey fights back a giggle.

She gets out of bed carefully, and slips down the hallway to the front door. Rey takes a deep breath, the cool, humid air of the planet soothing her lungs. Even in the pre-dawn light, there’s an undeniable beauty to the landscape. The tugging comes again, and Rey walks to the shore of the lake she spotted upon their arrival the previous night.

Settling into a cross-legged position, she looks out over the water and wills herself to breathe. Just breathe, the way Luke taught her.

“Hello, Rey.” A young man’s voice greets her. Rey looks up and to the side, in time to see a shimmering Force Ghost come into focus.

The man sits on the sand next to her, and crosses his legs to mimic her position.

“Hello,” she says, uncertainly. “Who are you?” The man is undoubtedly attractive, with long brown hair, a small roguish scar over his eyebrow, and mischievous eyes that she swears she’s seen somewhere else. "Do I know you?"

He shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything at first, instead running his hand over the grains of sand. Something in the movement makes him smile, making his face even more handsome, and when he tilts his head towards her, she gasps, realizing where she’s seen those eyes.

“My name is Anakin,” he tells her. “I think you know my family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* I wonder why he's here.
> 
> (The "vacation" continues into the next chapter, and Poe has a very specific destination in mind) 
> 
>  
> 
> (also sorry for the Dark!Poe; it's not necessarily meant to be a vision of him going Dark Side, but more of a manifestation of a lot of Rey's anxieties that come together in an unpleasant way in her subconscious).


	29. Lessons from the Past and Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Anakin talk; Ben visits Rey; Rey has a nerve attack and Poe fusses over her; Ben has two very different visions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: implied character death at the end (dream!) 
> 
> other warning: mild smut, mostly emotions, Rey POV

“Glad to see a flare for the dramatic is hereditary.” Rey can’t help the dry comment as she tries to hide her surprise.

“You should have seen me with my cape on, kid.” Rey snorts at the quip. She’d assumed Ben’s sarcastic streak came from his father; she’s beginning to suspect otherwise.

“Please do not summon one from the netherworld to prove your point. I think I’ve seen enough brooding men in capes to last a lifetime, Skywalker.”

Anakin laughs, a bright and cheerful sound. It’s utterly in conflict with the image she has in her mind of Darth Vader. “I bet you have.” He regards her with total amusement. “You remind me of my wife,” he says, eyes twinkling. Rey can see how this man could have caught the eye of a Queen. “She used to call me on my bullshit, too.”

“What was your wife like?” Rey asks, genuinely curious. This is Darth Vader after all, the man who destroyed half a galaxy in rage when his love had died. The man whose cruelty had inspired his grandson to throw himself into the Dark Side in an attempt to chase his glory.

“Bossy,” Anakin smiles. “Very bossy. But rightfully so. And so much smarter than I was. Beautiful. Kind. And remarkable.” He runs a large hand across his chin, lost in memory. “The most remarkable creature I ever met.” Rey doesn’t have anything to say to that. Anakin studies the lake before them, adding, “This place is very special to me. We fell in love here.”

 “Do you ever get to see her?” The question is out before she can stop it. A selfish part of Rey wants to know if Padme has ascended to this level of the Force, if only to learn how she achieved it as a non-Jedi. There are people she’d rather not say goodbye to, after all.

“No,” Anakin’s smile is bittersweet, sad. “She moved on. I’m told by my former master that she felt there was nothing here for her. Nothing to wait for. It broke her heart.” The young man sighs, and looks at Rey through the wave of hair that hangs over his eyes. “I hurt her, you see. Not badly enough to kill her. Not right away. But enough to…” He gets quieter through the confession, and stops talking altogether before he finishes the thought.

“Why did you hurt her?” As far as Rey knows, there had been a fight that ended in a disastrous childbirth. Padme Amidala’s heart had given out after she’d given up the will to live. But she wants to know _why,_ why Anakin Skywalker would turn his back on the thing he loved most.

“I wasn’t myself,” Anakin shakes his head, and stops. “No. I was myself. That was the problem. I was too much myself, and didn’t listen to the Force through the lens of balance. I listened only to the parts I cared about, and I thought that what I was doing was saving the woman I loved, not setting the stepping stones to her destruction.” His fists come to rest on his knees, tightly clenched. Rey notices, with no shortage of curiosity, that one hand is a prosthetic, a metal skeleton fused to his arm.

Anakin breathes steadily through his nose, and Rey wonders at a Force Ghost being able to be angry enough to require meditative practice.

He’s very quiet as he admits, “I choked her. Right after I accused her of being in love with my brother.”

Rey’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “You had a brother?”

“In everything but blood,” he says. “Obi-Wan was my brother, and I was jealous.”

“Was there a reason to be jealous?” Rey’s pushing her luck now, but she’s desperate to know the origins of this particular Skywalker problem.

“No,” he shakes his head, and then cocks it to the side. “Well, maybe. Obi-Wan took his oath very seriously. Never strayed from his vow of chastity, not even when he was stuck on Tatooine for twenty years.” He smiles, and it’s bitter. “But he loved her. I know he did. And every part of me that still had common sense knew he was a better option for her. Kinder, smarter, older. More balanced.”

There are tears in his eyes as he says, “Obi-Wan was with her when she died, when I wasn’t there. He held her hand as she died. And then, out of love for her, he saved my children. He protected my son, when I wasn’t there.” Anakin breathes heavily, and tilts back to gaze at the lightening sky. Rey watches something in his face spasm from grief and she feels the still gaping wound of his past shudder through the Force.

“I killed him,” he says, voice harsh with anger, “I killed my brother, but I had destroyed his life long before that. I ruined the only life he knew, the life of the Jedi, the life he cared so much about. And I took away the one person who had ever even slightly tempted him to walk away from it all.” 

“Has he forgiven you?”

Anakin stiffens, and crosses his arms in front of his chest, curling in on himself; it’s an oddly defensive maneuver for the most powerful Force-user of all time. “For everything but her.”

Rey reaches out, and tries to cover his arm with her hand. It goes through him immediately, but it makes him smile, regardless. “You’re too kind, young Master Rey.”

“Not a master,” she points out, calmly, inwardly aching for his loneliness, his mistakes.

“Aren’t you?” He asks. “You are the last of the Jedi. It’s in your hands now. The galaxy needs a master, and it needs the Jedi. It needs you.”

“I don’t feel like a Jedi,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t feel like a good person, half the time. Makes me want to try harder, but I’m not sure how.”

Anakin throws his head back, and laughs, loudly. “If you’re still trying, then you’re doing way better than I ever did.” He sobers quickly. “Don’t make my mistakes, Rey,” he urges her. “Love without jealousy; honor what you love. And for Force’s sake, don’t confuse control with love.”

Rey nods in understanding. “I won’t.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes. The sun begins to rise over the horizon, beams of light melting into the aqua of the Naboo skyline. In the distance, the amphibious population of Gungans sings their dawn chorus, a blended, gorgeous melody that promises new beginnings.

“This was always Padme’s favorite part,” Anakin says. “And mine too.” Rey looks over at the ghost next to her.

He’s impossibly young, his expressive eyes fixed on the horizon; he looks so enthralled, so enraptured that it breaks her heart. She can see the young boy whose childhood was stolen from him, who managed to love, and love fiercely, despite all of his loss. She sees no hint of the monster he would become. She only sees a man who misses his wife and who haunts the place he first loved her, if only to feel her for a second more.

Long after he vanishes from sight, but before Poe wakes and comes to find her, Rey cries for Anakin Skywalker.

She cries for his grandson as well.

**

Poe wakes, missing the weight and warmth of Rey immediately. He had slept without dreaming, an uncommon mercy, but he can’t fight the tight anxiety that rises in his chest when he discovers that she’s gone.

He has a faded memory of her rising before the dawn, kissing him sweetly before urging him to go back to sleep. Poe stretches, and rolls out of bed so he can go look for her.

The sun has been up for almost half an hour, judging by the chronometer, and the vaguely disapproving look he gets from C-3PO. He ignores the droid’s judgment, orders some food to be put out for breakfast—he’s still determined to get Rey’s weight up—and then walks out the front door.

There’s a chill in the air, generated by the cool lake air at the beginnings of the autumnal season on Naboo. He’s always a little too warm, the jungle climate of Yavin having sunk deep into his blood as a child, and he enjoys the crisp morning against his skin.

His eyes catch on a small figure, meditating on the lake shore. He smiles, and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks out to meet her. He doesn’t want to disturb her meditation, but as he gets closer, he sees the drying tracks of her tears upon her cheeks.

“Sweetheart?” He asks. “Are you alright?”

Rey sniffs, and opens her mouth, probably to say ‘yes.’ She changes her mind though, and her mouth snaps shut, and she shakes her head as a fresh wave of tears spill over her eyes. He sits next to her in the sand, and runs the backs of his fingers up her arm. Her skin is cold, too cold, and Poe curses as he pulls her into his body, cradling her between his legs as he wraps himself around her.

“You’re freezing, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Let’s get you inside.”

Rey shakes her head, again. “Can we just sit a little longer?”

His arms tighten around her. “Of course, Sunshine,” he agrees. “Whatever you need.”

Poe drops kisses into her hair at random intervals while they stare out across the lake. The sun climbs steadily higher.

***

**

When Ben next appears to Rey, it’s not of his or her design.

The Force brings him to her as she sits on a balcony, overlooking a lake.

He waits for a few moments before speaking to her. His words have caught in his throat as he looks upon his scavenger for the first time in almost a month.

Ben’s dreams are still haunted by the memory of her strapped to Hux’s interrogation chair. The blood that stained her teeth, the countless bruises littering her body, the swelling of her face. The images torment him, even now.

Gazing at her form before him, her spine slightly bent, body tense even in relaxation, Ben is overcome with fresh, new grief for what has been done to Rey of Jakku.

Always a thin woman, Rey now looks terribly frail. She didn’t have weight to lose, and she’s clearly lost twenty or so pounds since Scarif. The lovely features that had captured his heart as she lifted into the air, hellbent on destroying his fleet, are shadowed by a ghost of pain. Exhaustion has cut large circles under her eyes.

Despite the ravaging effect of her prolonged agony, she’s the most remarkable creature he’s ever seen. She looks like an Empress.

Rey wears a soft yellow dress that hangs to reveal her bony shoulders, the drape of the fabric softening the effect of her sharply thin frame. Her hair had been braided by patient hands, wildflowers woven into the crown. A pang echoes through Ben as he realizes that he recognizes the flowers. They’re indigenous to Naboo, the place where he was last happy.

“Hello, Jedi.”

She jumps in surprise. “Ben!” She looks genuinely pleased to see him.

“Taking a break?”

“You could say that,” Rey is still smiling at him, as if he’d done something massively clever, and not just appeared at her side. “Poe took me on a trip.” Her smile somehow brightens, and a thick, cloying anxiety descends upon Ben. They’re on a trip. They’re traveling the galaxy together. That must mean…

“Are you on your honeymoon?”

“My what?” Rey looks incredibly confused. Of course she doesn’t know the term, she spent over a decade of her life as a slave. Ben takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to fight the irrational fear raging in his stomach.

He’d fought over a dozen armed men at once in hand-to-hand combat as one of his final trials under Snoke, and he hadn’t felt an inch of fear. Somehow the scavenger’s marital status inspires far more terror.

Still waiting for his response, she reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement draws his eye, and he sees that Rey’s fourth finger is bare of any jewelry. Specifically, it’s bare of a silver ring that he knows the pilot still wears, having seen it himself aboard _The Finalizer,_ and then again during their last conversation.

 _It isn’t girly! It was my mother’s,_ the young voice of Poe Dameron proudly declares in his memory. _It’s all I have left of her. And I’m gonna wear it until I find the person I’m supposed to be with. I’m gonna give it to my wife one day._

If it isn’t on her hand, there’s no way they’re married. It isn’t over, yet.

He still feels a question burning inside him, and stupidity makes him ask it: “Have you made your choice, yet?”

“Of course I’ve made my choice, Ben.” Rey looks even more tired than she had before they started talking. The circles under her eyes seem to darken under the Naboo sun.

 “And you’re sure it’s the right choice?” Ben does not understand how she could be so dismissive of what the Force has planned.

“Why are you so obsessed with _my_ choice?” Rey demands, angry. “What about your choice?”

“I’ve already made it,” he snaps. He’s losing his temper. He can feel the Dark Side reaching out to her through him. He barely tries to beat it back.

“Make a different one!” She says, reaching out to him, ignorant of the spirals of hatred and dark energy that seek her out, even now.

“Why?” He snarls. “So I can watch you be in love with someone else?”

“Who I’m in love with should have no effect on your soul, Ben Solo!” Rey is furious now. Good. Ben begins to push at her defenses, subconsciously, wanting to compel her into understanding him when he assures her that who she’s in love with has _everything_ to do with his soul.

He hates her.

He loves her.

He pushes her too hard.

Something snaps inside of Rey, causing a rapid recoil that forces him to flinch as well.

“Oh, fuck” she hisses, jaw clenching. “Not again.”

Waves of unbridled agony ripple towards him in the Bond. Ben struggles to breathe as the maelstrom passes through Rey. He realizes that this is what she’s been hiding from him.

Several minutes of sheer torment go by, until it subsides into an uncomfortable prickle. Rey takes a deep breath, and then does something to dampen the connection between them without kicking him all the way out.

“Is that why you’ve been blocking me?” Ben is horrified.

Rey nods, clutching her stomach as she tries to catch her breath. Her voice is weak as she explains, “It’s something that Hux did to me. The doctors call them nerve attacks. They’re getting a lot better.”

If _that_ was “a lot better,” Ben is terrified of what they were like before. Something needles at him, leading him to ask, “Were you worried I’d take advantage of you when you were vulnerable?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rey snorts. “I just didn’t want you to feel any of the pain.” She winces as another volley of pain clearly rises up within her. Ben Solo’s heart aches for her, this woman who suffers so much, as a result of the First Order, but who still wishes to shield him from it.

A second later, and Rey cringes, eyeing the door that leads indoors. “Shit,” she breathes. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What is it?” Ben asks, confused. He doesn’t sense any threat in the Force.

“Just hide,” she grits out between her teeth. “If you can’t leave, just hide. I don’t want you two to fight.”

Ben focuses as well as he can, trying to fade into nothingness. A second later, the door bangs open.

Poe Dameron bursts onto the balcony, “Rey!” He slides to a stop next to her, hands hovering over her body. _Not touching her_ , Ben notes. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Poe. It was just a nerve attack.” Ben cocks his head curiously. How did Poe know she was in pain?

The pilot shudders. “Is that what they always feel like?” He looks gutted. “Sunshine, have you been hiding it from me? From the Bond?”

The galaxy screeches to a halt. He barely hears Rey protest, “Darling, there’s no need for you to feel it.” Poe catches her in his arms as he shakes his head, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t catch it in time today.” She’s even more distant now.

Poe says something, adamant, in response, but Ben doesn’t hear it. He’s underwater, and something is pressing on his chest. He’s so far gone in his mind, he doesn’t think it the fault of the Dark or the Light. The Force has abandoned him, this much is clear.

The scavenger and the pilot have a Bond, as well. The web of light that surrounds them is undeniable, dazzling. The Force has chosen another possible destiny for her. But why?

As Poe runs anxious hands over Rey’s body, murmuring his love for her, Ben imagines he can see the last spark of hope he has, snuffing out before his very eyes.

The Bond pulls him away. He doesn’t fight it.

******

Poe kisses her relentlessly that night, hands stroking her entire body before he settles between her legs.

“ _Reina,_ ” he whispers, thumb stroking back and forth along her jaw. He kisses her and Rey moans as the Bond erupts in his ardor.

 _Please never hide from me again,_ he begs her silently. _I love you._ _You don’t need to do this alone._

Rey’s crying at the sentiment behind the words. Her wasted childhood rears into her memory, the endless tally-marks stretched above her on the AT-AT’s walls, the sheer emptiness of her hunger, the echoing, miserable loneliness.

“Never again,” he promises her, easing into her slowly. He kisses away a tear that’s slid down past her jaw, and then trails a line of kisses up her neck. Poe breathes the rest of his oath into her ear as he begins to move in earnest. “You never have to be alone again.”

***

Poe spends the rest of their time on Naboo trying to get Rey to taste the variety of foods that he enjoyed as a child. She actually likes some of them, especially the more aquatic, salty items that are Gungan-inspired. Poe kisses her senseless the first time she cleans her plate.

He drives them into a nearby city on a speeder he hot-wired in the cottage’s garage, and it’s her turn to kiss him when he freely tells her of a time he and Ben Solo did something very similar, with disastrous results.

She loves Naboo, and she loves Poe Dameron.

When it’s time for them to leave, three days after she saw Ben on the balcony, she leans her forehead against the doorframe for just a moment before she walks to the X-wing that waits for her.

 _Goodbye, Anakin,_ she whispers into the Force. _I hope you get the peace you’re looking for._

When she takes her seat next to Poe, Rey tilts her head towards him.

“Where to, Colonel?”

He looks suddenly nervous. His hands fiddle over the controls before he looks up at her, an emotion similar to hope in his large eyes. “I’d like to take you to Yavin 4,” he says.

Rey smiles at him, joy lighting along her spine. “Sounds wonderful,” she chirps at him. Poe relaxes at her clear enthusiasm. “Can I fly?”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he sighs dramatically, plugging in the commands that will allow her to take control.

******

*******

Three Days Earlier

Reeling from the day’s revelations, it takes several hours before Ben can somehow fall asleep. The dream that catches him whispers with the Force’s intentions.

_He’s in a clearing bracketed by strong trees. The air is clear, and his prey is before him._

_Ben stalks through the grass, using the Force to silence his footsteps as he sneaks up behind his quarry._

_“You’re mine!” He roars, tackling the other._

_“No!” A shriek of laughter erupts from the small boy as Ben ferociously tickles him. They both cackle with joy as they roll in the dirt, Ben eventually catching the boy in his arms and holding him close to his chest._

_Still giggling, the boy looks up at him. He’s a beautiful child of two, with his mother’s eyes and pert nose. Thick, wavy, and dark hair frames a jaw that promises to be strong later in life._

_“Got you,” Ben declares, triumphantly. The boy makes a rude noise with his small mouth, tongue sticking out in a way that is almost painfully reminiscent of his mother, who Ben senses nearby, her Force signature singing in contentment. The sound brings him indescribable joy._

_Taking advantage of his distraction, the child lifts a hand and uses the Force to lightly push Ben onto his back._

_“Oh, you’re a cheater,” he cries dramatically. “Whatever shall I do with a cheater?”_

_He leaps to his feet, precious cargo still in tow, prepared to raspberry his shrieking captive’s belly. Just then, a crack enters the atmosphere, and they both look up to see an X-Wing lowering towards the clearing._

_“Papa!” The boy cries, pointing at ship as it begins to land._

_“I see, Han” Ben feels an unfamiliar bubble of fondness grow inside his chest. “I see.”_

_Rey comes out of the garden, and the small boy waves his hands at her. “Mama!” She beams at him, looking happier than he’s ever seen her—well-rested, fuller-hipped, tanned, and peaceful. She wipes dirt from her hands onto her leggings._

_“You know, they make towels for that,” Ben cracks. Rey rolls her eyes and holds her arms out for her son. Ben hands the squirming toddler over, kissing him on the head as soon as he’s nestled in his mother’s arms._

_“He’s strong with the Force,” Ben comments. “He’ll make his father proud.”_

_“He would no matter what,” Rey returns. She kisses her boy on the nose, and then smiles softly at Ben._

_The X-Wing’s canopy pops open, and a familiar figure climbs out._

_He’s starting to go silver above the ears, and he sports a full beard. He’s traded in his military uniform for civilian clothes. But the golden light that emits from every pore has yet to fade, and his form is still compact and muscular. The BB-8 unit remains a perpetual shadow on his heels, dropping down from the starfighter and rolling over to its owner, trilling loudly._

_“How goes it, Admiral?” Ben calls._

_“Master Solo!”_

_Poe Dameron’s face splits into a massive grin as he jogs over to them. BB-8 passes him, zooming through the grass towards mother and child._

_Poe claps Ben on the shoulder when he reaches them; he looks as carefree as he had when they were boys. Then he clears his throat and turns to the woman that stands, waiting, giggling boy resting on her hip._

_“Hey, Sunshine,” he whispers. “I came back.”_

_Ben waits for the upbraiding that he knows awaits Admiral Dameron. He knows this game. He knows what happens when a wandering pilot hears the call of adventure and takes off into the galaxy for weeks on end with little to no communication. He knows the tension it forces upon a small but strong woman who waits at home with her young child. This is set to be a fight every inch as massive and destructive as the ones that raged between his own parents. Ben’s half-tempted to grab the child and run into the woods, to spare him the uncomfortable role of witness to his parents’ conflict._

_Rey does not yell. She smiles instead, eyes just beginning to wrinkle around the corners. “Of course you did,” she says. Ben imagines he can see the Light suffusing each word. “You promised.”_

_Ben smiles at his best friend when Poe kisses his son’s head. “Hey, buddy.” His laugh is wet. “Missed you.” The boy coos in happiness as he grabs his papa’s beard. Poe pretends to nibble at his tiny fingers, growling playfully, and while the boy howls in indignation, the pilot manages to kiss his wife on the forehead. Ben snorts when Poe swerves to kiss her full on the lips. The Force ripples around them, celestial objects who have returned to their proper orbit once more._

_“I’m going to take Han before you traumatize him,” Ben suggests, lightly, tugging the boy out of his mother’s embrace._

_“Good idea,” Poe’s grin is cocky but adoring as he gazes at his wife._

_“Say ‘thanks, Uncle Ben,’,” Rey instructs Han Dameron, who’s now got his arms wrapped around Ben’s neck._

_“Thanks, Uncle Ben,” Poe sings, kissing his wife again. She pokes him in the chest, silver ring glinting on her hand._

_“Not you,” she scolds._

_“Nerf-herder,” Ben mutters, using the Force to lightly push his best friend._

_“Hey! Watch your language around my kid,” Poe reprimands him playfully. He grins at his wife, and wraps her tightly in his arms. “Hey sweetheart,” he whispers, so soft Ben knows he wasn’t meant to hear it._

_“Ben!” He looks down at his nephew, who has just recently learned to say his name. There’s a pain in his face that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt—his cheeks hurt from the weight of his smile._

_He looks down at the sweet smile of Han Dameron. For the first time in years, he doesn’t feel any loss, abandonment, or pain._

_He only feels love._

_The Force has led him home._

~

Ben sits upright in his bed aboard _Vader II._ He spends a good amount of time staring through the star-viewer, the arm of the galaxy throbbing with starshine above him.

He flinches when something drips into his lap. Raising a hand to his face, he realizes that he’s crying.

A fragile bubble of Light struggles to expand in his soul. Ben Solo cries from the purity of it all, the future he didn’t know he could still possess. He’s so open to the Force, both sides of it, that he can’t remember to breathe as it pulls him down, waking, conscious, into another vision.

He barely catches himself on his hands and knees as he slams into new ground. He looks up, slowly getting to his feet, realizing that he’s no longer on board his ship. He’s in a clearing, different than his last dream. The wind is howling. He’s been here, before. There are smoking corpses around him, cut in half by his saber. In the distance, smoke rises from a raging battle.

There’s a guttural scream to his right. Ben turns and sees his worst nightmare.

Colonel Poe Dameron was the one who had screamed: Ben wasn’t aware a human could make that sound. He’s wearing an orange flightsuit which is torn and covered in blood.

Not his blood though. Poe weeps over a broken body, his hands stroking her hair, as he sobs, “Come back. _Come back,_ ” a wrecked litany that goes unheard by any but Ben.

Ben stumbles forward and collapses once more, across from Poe.

As the pilot screams once again, eyes clenched shut against the horror laid out before them, Ben lifts a shaking, ungloved hand to her throat.

He finds no pulse.

Rey is dead. And it is all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always loved Obi Wan and Padme's interactions as a kid growing up (when he tells her he's sorry for her in Revenge of the Sith, I die every time). 
> 
> And ruh-roh Ben. First vision was nice but the next one is pretty creepy!!
> 
> Ps I have a pretty explicit scene written for Yavin 4—should I include it? Make it an attached one shot with an upped rating ? Delete it? Let me know !


	30. Finish the Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Poe fly to Yavin; Kes awaits, and so does Rey's growing frustration with her writer's block; Kes and Rey have a tense conversation; Poe helps Rey overcome an obstacle in a creative way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: Dom!Poe. Oops.  
> And potential sacrilege. (The sacred Jedi texts would not be amused)
> 
> After the Kes/Rey conversation, this chapter is rated E for VERY EXPLICIT. ~You've been warned~

Approximately thirty seconds into take-off, Poe decides that there is no better sight in the galaxy than Rey sitting at the controls of an X-Wing.

She’s in complete control of the bird, and he has to remind himself that she purposefully stayed grounded, stayed stuck in one place on Jakku, waiting for her loved ones to return to her. It’s baffling, especially when flight clearly comes so naturally to her.

Her loyalty must be a powerful thing, to keep a woman destined for the stars locked in one place for so long. He doesn’t deserve her.

They’re silent as they make the jump into hyperspace, Poe more than entertained by watching the myriad expressions of joy pass over his sweetheart’s face.

He leans back into his chair, and settles in to quietly enjoy the rest of the flight, when Rey suddenly pipes up with,

“What’s a honeymoon?”

Poe chokes on nothing. “What?” He dares to look at Rey out of the corner of his eyes. She’s not embarrassed by the question, or suspicious; she’s sitting calmly, scanning the console to ensure their charted path is well set. “Uh. Why do you ask?”

Rey shrugs, looking indifferently curious. “Someone asked me if we were ‘on a honeymoon.’ Didn’t know what it was.”

He assumes the most logical explanation: someone on Naboo spotted them in the market, saw how ridiculously smitten he was, and asked if they were newlyweds. The idea is so singularly pleasing that it might just inspire him to move up his timeline to propose.

Rey’s still waiting for an answer, and she leans over to poke him in the leg. “Do you not know what it is either? Because you could just tell me that.”

He smiles at his co-pilot, amused that she’d rather jab him physically than nudge him with the Force. “It’s a kind of trip, sweetheart,” he explains. “You go on a honeymoon with the person you love to celebrate how happy you are to be with them.”

 _So, we_ are _on a honeymoon?_ Rey questions him in the Bond.  

“Mmm. Well,” Poe wishes his voice didn’t just crack like he’s a kriffing teenager again, “it’s what you do after you get married,” Rey says and thinks nothing for increasingly uncomfortable seconds after receiving that piece of information. Poe wonders if she’d notice him sliding down and hiding under his seat. She’d probably notice. Jedi senses and all that.

He tenses when she opens her mouth, finally. “Damn. I thought there was a moon somewhere made out of sugar that you weren’t telling me about.”

Poe laughs and tells her he loves her because it’s so, so desperately true.

He tries not to project how badly he wishes this were a honeymoon into the Bond.

***

Kes Dameron waits for them outside the house Poe spent the first eight years of his life in.

Rey lands the X-Wing smoother than any seasoned veteran, and she begins to disengage the droids from their stations.

Poe can’t wait that long. He smacks the canopy open, ignores the ladder that descends towards the ground, and _jumps_ out of the plane, into his father’s arms.

“ _Mijo_ ,’ his father laughs as he hugs him back.

Rey clears her throat, awkwardly. Both Dameron men turn as one to look at her.

“Hi,” she waves at Kes. “I’m Rey.”

“I know,” he grins. Rey beams, and Poe’s never loved anything more than this, two of his favorite people finally meeting.

Rey walks forward, hand extended—surely an expression of good manners taught to her by Leia or Rose—and Kes knocks it aside to hug her fiercely instead. Poe can feel the surprise flare up in Rey, but it doesn’t stop her from hugging him right back.

They let go of each other after a few seconds. “You look different from your pictures,” Kes comments, holding Rey at arm’s length now.

“Pictures?” Rey asks.

“Pictures?” Poe echoes.

[Uh-oh] BB-8 mutters, slowly rolling away and making an innocent whistle. Niney makes a tired sigh and follows him towards the house.  

“Beebee,” Poe shouts at the retreating droid. “What did you do?”

“Lay off, Poe,” Kes says. “He just wanted his _abuelo_ to see the girl you haven’t stopped talking about for over a year.”

“A year?” Rey asks, slyly. “Why, Colonel Dameron. How flattering.” Poe’s ears are burning.

“When you know, you know,” Kes says wisely. Poe smiles at his father. Yeah, he knew.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while, _mijo,_ ” Kes says, lightly. Poe half-shrugs in acknowledgment. He hadn’t done much besides work and watch Rey for five weeks.

“That’s probably my fault, Mr. Dameron,” Rey says. “I had a bit of a setback—Jedi stuff—and Poe’s been helping me through it.”

Kes affixes Rey with a strange look that Poe can’t read despite knowing his father very well. He doesn’t dwell on it, and instead brings their linked hands to his lips so he can kiss her knuckles. _Not your fault, Sunshine,_ he insists through the Bond. She smiles at him, sadly, and releases his hand.

_Feels like it._

The soft light of Yavin catches the shadows on her face, illuminating her perfect bone structure. Poe is caught between worry over how pale and tired she looks, and the thrill from her natural beauty, amplified under the gas giant’s light.

“Well, Poe’s never brought a girl home to meet me before,” Kes interjects. Poe tears his eyes off his girl, somehow, to look at his dad. Kes is looking back and forth between them, more unreadable emotion suddenly blooming behind his eyes. “So I’m sure I’ll forgive you.”

Rey laughs, her brow creasing with an unidentified weight. The Bond is being dampened, suggesting to Poe that she doesn’t want him to read her emotional state. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Mr. Dameron,” she smiles. “Do you mind if I go sit down?” Poe looks over at her, takes in her full profile; sure enough, her legs are shaking slightly, and her brow is damp.

She’s only had the one nerve attack in the last week, and he doesn’t want to allow another one to manifest. “Yeah, Sunshine,” he says, answering for his father. He’s by her side in seconds, cupping her elbow after sliding an arm to support the small of her back. “I got you.”

“I know you do,” Rey tells him. “But I can go inside by myself, I think. Why don’t you talk to your dad?” He doesn’t need the Bond to be operational to read the _please explain this to him_ behind the question. Poe nods and kisses her briefly, not caring that his dad can see.

“We’ll be in there soon,” he promises her, hand on her cheek. She walks forward unsteadily. He fights with himself not to shadow her. Beebee and Niney roll to the porch behind her, and Beebee makes a small squawking sound when it bumps into the front step. Niney waits with slightly more dignity. Rey laughs and doesn’t even turn around as she waves a hand, lifting them both gently so they can keep rolling forward into the house.

Once they’re gone from view, Poe turns to Kes.

“What did they do to her?” Kes asks him, face lined with worry.

“More like, what didn’t they do to her,” Poe makes a sound a lot like a laugh, but he’s sure could just as soon turn into a scream.

His dad waits for him to continue. When Poe looks back at him, he feels the tears burning in his eyes. Kes opens his arms without question, and Poe walks forward into his dad’s embrace.

He’d always been good at that, at knowing exactly what his son needed.

“I almost lost her,” he whispers into his father’s shirt. “She almost died.”

Kes lets him go so he can talk, but leaves his hands on Poe’s arms.

“They ripped her apart,” he talks through his tears. “They strapped her to a table and did every horrible thing imaginable to her. They played it for the galaxy to watch.” He shakes his head against the memories, stronger and more terrible than any other monster he’s faced. “She’s still healing. She’s in pain all the time, and I can’t help her. She’s so strong, but the shit they did to her.” His breath comes as a sob, “ _Papa._ ” His dad’s arms are around him again, pulling him in close.

Poe buries his face in his father’s shoulder. “Papa,” he cries. He doesn't say anything else. There are things that he can't say, not out loud, not yet.

Kes holds him tighter, not saying a thing until Poe’s cried it out.

**

While Poe and his father continue to catch up, laughing over holoreels Beebee continually projects onto a wall for them, Rey walks outside.

The Force is heavy here, and she feels there’s something she needs to investigate. She’s a little too tired to walk far today, so she settles where she is in the grass, and breathes deeply.

Naboo was stupendous with its large lakes and clear sky. Nakadia was gorgeous as well, with its sweeping plains.

She thinks she likes Yavin 4 the best. It’s the greenest place she’s ever been, even greener than Takodana. Trees reach towards the soft-hued sky, and in the distance towers a large temple that she wants to explore later, when the time is right. Poe said they could spend a week here, and she’s looking forward to examining every inch of this moon, the moon that created Poe Dameron.

After an hour of meditation, Rey takes out the small parchment she’s been fussing over for months now.

Her new version of the Jedi Code still needs some work. She can tell there’s something she needs to fix, to add, to make it feel right. Rey briefly entertains the thought of summoning Ben, when there’s a sudden noise behind her. She startles and looks up, half-expecting the handsome face of the Supreme Leader to be smirking down at her.

It’s Poe. _Sorry, Sunshine,_ he apologizes. “What are you looking at?” He sits down across from her, assuming the meditative stance she’d taught him not two weeks after they met.

“Just something I’ve been working on,” she says, cheeks burning unexpectedly. It’s stupid. What if he thinks it’s stupid.

“What have you been working on?” His expression is nothing but open, respectful curiosity. She feels the sincerity of his emotions, and knows that there’s nothing in Poe that would mock her for what she’s doing.

“I’m trying to fix the Jedi code,” she explains, smiling. She holds out the parchment. “The original is very limiting. I wanted to play around with it, make it less about absolutes and more about people’s relationship with the Force, with the galaxy.”

Poe nods. “Ah yes,” he says, almost laughing. “I remember someone else who used to get frustrated over the absolutes of the code.” The ghost of Ben Solo hangs over both of them for a moment.

The pilot blinks to clear his thoughts first. “Let’s see what you got, Sunshine.”

He reads aloud, and Rey winces in embarrassment over every syllable.

_“There can be peace within emotion, if the Force wills it._

_I can find knowledge in ignorance._

_There can be serenity in passion, if the Force wills it._

_I can find harmony in chaos.”_

Poe stops reading and looks up. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he enthuses. “Really. But isn’t the code a little longer?”

Rey shrugs, and reaches for the paper. “I’m stuck,” she sighs. “I’ve been at this for months and I can’t figure it out. I know there’s something that I need to do, but I can’t get over this obstacle in my head.”

“Well, you’re the toughest person I know,” Poe says encouragingly. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.” They smile at each other, the warm breeze drifting from the Yavinese trees, bearing the smell of tropical fruits and hidden rivers.

“My girlfriend’s so smart,” Poe sings, playfully. He lunges forward, and tips Rey onto her back so they’re lying in the grass. He smiles as he kisses her.

Rey forgets her writer’s block soon enough. 

***

Kes catches her outside the main house when Poe’s inside running maintenance checks on the droids.

“Can I talk to you, Master Rey?”

Rey feels that it would be impolite to correct him over her title, so she lets it go. “Of course, Mr. Dameron.”

“I just want to talk to you about my boy for a minute”

That can’t be that hard to do, she thinks. She likes talking about Poe. Rey smiles at her boyfriend’s father. “What about?”

The older man lets out a heavy sigh, and looks over his shoulder at the house. “I don’t want you to take any of this the wrong way,” he begins. Rey cringes. She hasn’t spent a long time around other people, having just over a year of socialization at this point, but she has learned that when someone starts a sentence like that, she will assuredly take something the wrong way. “I’m just worried about Poe, you know?”

“Go on,” she says. She doesn’t actually want him to go on. She’s pretty sure she isn’t going to like this.

“Poe hasn’t always had the best support system.” That’s a worrisome start. “My wife and I were too caught up in the Rebellion to really be around when he was a kid,” Kes explains gruffly. “And after my Shara died, I went a little stir crazy. Took off to map the rest of the galaxy. Left him with Leia.” Rey nods, having known the basics but not the details. “And as you know, she was a little busy, being Senator and then General and all.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Jedi. I’m glad he’s found someone he loves so much. Because he loves you. I’m sure you know—when Poe loves someone, he gives it everything he’s got.”

Rey smiles, a sense of foreboding building in her spine. _Where is this going_? She wonders.

“I know,” she supplies nervously. “Poe is wonderful. His Force signature—it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Kes snorts. “The Force. Yeah. The Force works in weird ways. But, I’m sure you know that, as a Jedi. And I’m sure you know that you’re going to be asked to put the galaxy before my son, at some point. That he’ll become a distraction for you, and you’ll leave to follow your larger, completely respectable, purpose.”

Rey feels her hackles raise. “It’s not quite like that,” she tries for diplomacy and not defensive anger. This is Poe’s dad, after all. “It’s different. I’m a guardian of the Force, and I must maintain its balance. My duty is to help the people in this galaxy. But Poe helps people too. It’s what he’s good at.”

Kes shakes his head. “Poe’s good at accepting what’s left for him. He’s always been loved by people who can’t put him first.” Rey feels like she missed a step going downstairs. No. She feels like she fell down the whole flight of stairs. 

“Me, his mother, now you. I just wish the Force would send my son someone who wouldn’t choose to leave him behind to save the galaxy. I wish It would send him someone who’d be able—and willing—to put him first. Not someone who would die for the galaxy, but can’t live just for him.”  

That hurts far worse than anything the First Order ever did to her. Rey doesn’t know what to say, and stumbles over her next breath, the air catching in her throat.

Most of her calming techniques are rooted in her breath, and the disruption in her regular breathing pattern begins to stir her nerves, a telltale crackle spreading down her left arm.

She’s spared having to respond by Poe’s sudden, angry voice.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Kes blinks up at his son, who’s livid on the porch behind them. “How long have you been standing there?” Rey’s silent, struggling to maintain her composure, trying to focus on the balance of the galaxy, the small spaces between each living thing that will allow her to displace the building agony.

“Long enough,” Poe snaps. He strides over to stand next to Rey, placing an arm around her waist. “Why the fuck would you say that to her? She isn’t _you_ , dad. She didn’t run off a month after my birth to fuck around with Luke Skywalker. And she sure as shit isn’t _mom.”_ The weight of his arm around her threatens to drown her, lighting her senses painfully.

Kes Dameron winces, and it’s his pain, at the hands of the man she loves, the man who must be protected from the Dark at all costs, that allows her to breathe through the pain, and finally speak up.

“It’s fine, Poe.” She says. Poe opens his mouth to argue, but she won’t let him continue to hurt his father, who only wants what’s best for his son. He won’t hurt Kes. Not for her sake. “I understand you completely, Mr. Dameron.” She assures him. “But being with your son isn’t a distraction for me.”

“I love him,” she adds simply. “I’m a better Jedi for it. I love your son, and I thank the Force every day that he chooses to spend his time with me. But, just as he doesn’t leave me behind when he jumps in an X-Wing to save the galaxy, I don’t leave him behind when I leave to help others. He’s part of me, always. I never leave him behind. And the galaxy is easier to save with him in it. Because he saved me.” She grabs his hand, the one draped over her waist, hoping she sounds stronger than she feels.

 _You saved me first,_ he tells her. His face glows with the depth of his love for her as he gazes at her. _You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met._

Kes clears his throat. “I think we understand each other a little better now, Master Rey.” He says.

“It’s just Rey,” she corrects him, but she smiles all the same. “And I think we do, too.”

**

After dinner, which is mercifully less tense than the conversation from earlier in the afternoon, Poe takes her by the hand to lead her across the lawn, towards his room. It’s a small, well-decorated room, with shelves of holonovels lining two of the four walls, and a bed larger than the one he has back on base. Under the window is a desk that has flight and navigational texts stacked in the corner. Looking at them, Rey remembers the headache-inducing block she’s experiencing while trying to write her own text.

Poes goes to sit on the bed, and she’s vaguely aware of him watching her.

She ignores him for now, and she stands, looking out the window at the beautiful forest that surrounds his home.

“Rey,” her pilot says. “Look at me.” She turns from the window and complies. He has the top button of his shirt undone, and his eyes are dark in their inspection of her.

“Yes?” She asks, strangely nervous.

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “Take off your dress,” Poe whispers, leaning forward. His elbows rest on his knees as he surveys her. _Please?_

And then, with far less confidence. _Is this okay?_

Rey smiles, shakes her head at him. _I don’t mind it when you get bossy,_ she reassures him. _I kind of like it._

 _Kind of?_ The question is light-hearted, but she can feel the hesitance behind it.

Truthfully, she loves Poe’s possessive streak. It rarely comes up in their daily activities—he’s a generally supportive person, if a bit of a worrier, and he’s never been anything but proud of her and sweet in his every action. But when it’s just them, she feels an undeniable thrill when he gets demanding, taking the lead with her.

Rey tries to send a succinct version of her feelings on the subject to him, but they’re jumbled by lust. He looks amused, but still hesitant, so she sifts through her memories quickly, and finds the one of him before Scarif.

_“Good girl,” he whispered, kneeling between her legs. Rey flushed hotter than a dying sun, wanting him to praise her again. She’d do anything for him to praise her again._

“I’m not sure why,” she whispers, avoiding his eyes. “But I really like it.”

Poe groans in his throat. “I don’t deserve you,” he declares.

“Yes you do,” Rey says firmly. “Now, Colonel. What are my orders, again?” The Bond buzzes with his singular interest and Rey’s nerves begin to light up like livewires.

He sits up straight on the bed, leaving his hands resting on his thighs. She doesn’t miss the way he bites his bottom lip, eyes dark as he studies her. “I believe I asked you to take your dress off, Rey.” Her body burns under his gaze as she slowly slips the garment off her shoulders and lets it drop to the floor. She kicks out of it, and crosses her arms over her middle at the same time.

Her bones still stick out, and the scars are still fading; she’s seen Poe’s eyes linger on them before, and she thinks she’ll die if he looks at her with pity right now.

“It’s not pity,” he insists, hearing her self-doubt. “Kriff, it’s not pity.” His thumb runs over his fingers slowly as if he’s holding himself back from grabbing her. Poe’s eyes pin her in place better than a First Order tractor beam. He doesn’t look away as he says, “Arms at your side, Commander.” Rey follows his direction, and stands before him. Colonel Dameron stares at her with open rapture, and it’s almost too much.

Poe gets up and walks over to her, slinking forward until he’s less than six inches away from her. She can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Beautiful,” he comments. His eyes radiate sincerity as he takes her in. She can almost believe him, with a face like that. “Don’t believe me? Do you believe this?” he asks, gesturing at his pants. Rey’s amused and highly interested in the large tent in the material. “Because let me tell you, the Resistance did not design men’s work pants with comfort in mind.” She giggles, Poe’s natural humor breaking through this serious commanding officer persona he’s trying to project. He taps her on the nose lightly and they share a warm smile.

Then his smile is feral, again, the brown of his eyes swallowed wholly by his pupils.

“Go to the desk, sweetheart,” he commands, jerking his head to the table that sits on the other side of the room.

Rey swallows and walks over. She stands there, not sure what to do next.

“What do you want now?” She asks.

Poe’s behind her, urging her forward. “I want you.”

“I can’t breathe for wanting you, sometimes” he whispers, the statement sounding like a confession as he lays a hand flat on her back and pushes. Her hands catch on the table’s surface, so she’s leaned over the table, supporting her weight on her arms. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat.” Poe’s hands come to her hips, thumbs digging in. “The only thing I can do is sit there and think about you.”

“How you feel around me.” There’s something warm and wet at the base of her spine and Rey gasps as she realizes he’s dragging his tongue along the length of her back. “How you _taste_ ,” he whispers against her neck. Rey tries to say his name, but half the sound emerges, strangled. He laughs, softly, in her ear. “And, oh gods, how you _sound_.” He nips her earlobe gently. Rey’s completely at his mercy, even as she feels him fervently examine the Bond for any sign of discomfort.

 _I trust you,_ she relays to him. He leans forward a little more, and kisses her sweetly on the cheek. He smooths some of her hair back behind her ears, and then plants his feet, pulling away slightly so the only place he’s touching her is her hipbones, strong fingers gripping her firmly, but not tightly.  

“Let’s practice your focus, sweetheart.” Rey has no idea what that means. He’s the only thing she can think about right now, at least. “Tell me about that new Code you’ve been working on.” Rey blushes, furiously.

“Poe,” she hisses. She forgets what she was about to say next when one of his hands leaves her hip, and she hears the unmistakable sound of pants being unbuttoned, and then fabric slipping over skin.

“Rey?” He asks, teasingly. He moves forward so she can feel him at her back, his still-clothed thighs pressing her closer into the table.

“You’re going to tell me your Code,” he orders, still rubbing her hipbones with that same infuriating rhythm. “And then you’re going to finish it. For me.” His hands skate over her hips, finally, one hand coming to brace against her pelvis while the other slips between her thighs.

Rey squeaks at the intrusion, but her body relaxes within seconds. “Think of me as a study partner,” he suggests. “Let me help you.”

 _Your voice should be illegal_ , Rey thinks. _Much more convincing than any Jedi mind trick._

“You flatter me, Sunshine.” He works patiently at her from behind. “How does it start?”

“There can be peace within emotion, if the Force wills it,” she says, gasping for air between every other word.

“Good,” he soothes, adding another finger. “Then what?

“I can find knowledge in ignorance,” she dips her head down, feeling a shiver crawl down her spine from the building sensation. _I’m so close._

Without warning, his hand is gone, and Rey looks over her shoulder.

“Nerf-herder,” she snaps. Poe grins, lascivious in his pleasure, and licks his fingers clean. Rey’s legs threaten to give out underneath her.

“Eyes forward, Commander,” he reprimands her, glistening hand going to the opening of his pants. Rey whimpers, and looks forward, trying to brace herself more against the desk. “What comes after knowledge?’

Rey shakes her head. She can feel him touching himself. It’s too much. “Passion,” she says, tipping her hips backward, trying to make him touch her again. “Poe, please,” she begs. “I don’t know how it ends, not yet.”

“You just need a partner,” he reassures her. “Let me help you.” He’s suddenly against her, and Rey can barely stand the building pressure. _Stay still,_ he warns her.

He slips in, unbearably slow. Rey arches her back and whimpers, clutching the table as she tries to push back against him, but he chuckles, low and dark.

“Patience, Commander,” he says. “You have a job to do. And you’ll only get your reward when you finish it.” Rey whimpers from the implication. “I have complete faith in you, Rey,” he adds sweetly. “And besides—I can do this all night.” He finally pushes in all the way, and she has to swallow a shout from how good it feels.

Poe draws back out, slowly. “Tell me what’s next,” he orders, pausing in his movement. Rey could scream from the frustration. Sensing her irritation, his hands come to act as a balm, running a lazy circuit around her breasts, up to her neck.

“There can be…” Rey pauses, trying to remember the next word.

“Come on,” he encourages her.

“There can be _serenity_ , in passion,” She remembers, victoriously. He rewards her by plunging back in. Rey smacks the table with a fist, hard, panting after Poe pushes her all the way down so her torso is flat on the table.

“I can find harmony in chaos,” she bites out. And she can, she knows she can. Her heart is singing wildly—Rey is out of control, wanton, every molecule humming in perfect accord with the song of the universe itself.

He thrusts in and out, and Rey forgets what she’s supposed to do next, giving in entirely to the feeling of him inside her.

Poe has other ideas. “Finish it,’ he orders bossily, his hips stilling again. “Finish it for me.”

Rey manages to gasp, “All things are possible in the Force.”

“Is that it?” _No._ She casts about desperately. Focus. She needs to focus. It’s almost impossible with Poe pressing against her, filling her so completely, but she takes a deep breath. She breathes. She breathes in and out.

It finally comes to her, and it feels like rocks falling into place on a mountainside. “All things are possible in the Force. I am in the Force.”

“And?”

“So too, am I the Force.” Everything is perfect, golden light, and Rey mewls happily when Poe slides his slightly open mouth over her neck, ending with a kiss underneath her ear.

He straightens back up without a warning.

“Good girl,” he praises her, voice rough in a way that makes Rey feel so very soft. Rey closes her eyes in bliss when he finally picks up the speed, driving her towards the edge. It’s less than a minute before Rey’s screaming through a climax so intense she loses all sense of time, of self. There is nothing but the Force, wrapping around her, golden and true. Nothing but the Force and Poe.

She comes back to reality, and Poe is laughing lightly at her. He’s somehow gotten her onto the bed, and he’s collapsed next to her, still fully dressed. Rey realizes that his room is an absolute mess.

 _Did I do that?_ she asks, too high from her orgasm to really be bothered by the answer.

“Yes,” he whispers, rolling closer to her and kissing her, gently. “You marvelous, wonderful thing. My Jedi.” He kisses her. “My perfect Jedi.”  He rolls away, off the bed, and begins to undress.

 _Yours,_ she thinks peacefully, still floating. She’s aware of Poe’s breath catching.

“Are you really mine?” Gone is the bossy commanding officer who bent her over a desk.

Rey’s floating still, and she barely manages to say, “Yes, yes of course.” Poe’s above her, suddenly naked.

“Good. Because I belong to you, Sunshine.” He’s still hard, and he kneels between her legs. “You’ve got me, mind, body, soul,” He groans, eyes closed, as he takes himself in hand and guides himself to her.

 _Got you,_ she thinks into the Bond. They have each other. She fervently hopes they always will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mortified
> 
>  
> 
> (to be continued, Poe POV? This scene could end here though, if you don't want to see that. Thoughts?)
> 
> Sorry for Dom!Poe.  
> But not that sorry
> 
>  
> 
> Also Kes isn't meant to be awful, he just loves his son and is a tired soldier who isn't perfect. I think his concerns are legitimate, if wrongly directed at Rey.  
> Also also I had the worst possible day at work and I’m 100% done so I’m sorry if this seems a little less composed than normal (I’m still upset). Writing this and your lovely feedback has been my one true escape recently, so thanks lovelies!
> 
> Expect the next update sometime Saturday—I usually update daily but I’m not feeling too hot so probably won’t be able to churn out 5-7k words on Friday evening.


	31. In the Shadow of the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe loves Rey and fights with his dad; Rey makes more friends on Yavin 4; Rey has a startling vision, and a sudden question about Poe's Force sensitivity; her questions are answered by an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: First part is (emotional, not as explicit as Ch. 30) smut, just a heads up ;) If you weren't aware by now, the feels seem to be more graphic than anything else in this ridiculous story.

There’s no way in the hells that he deserves her, that he deserves any of this.

It’s only the fact that Poe’s not smart nor creative enough to imagine the vivid details of this—of the feeling of Rey around him, of her victorious creation of the Code, of the sounds she makes for him, because of him—that convinces him that this isn’t some perfect dream.

She’d gasped out the last part of her mantra almost a minute ago, for which he rewarded her enthusiastically, and Poe’s starting to worry that he’s pushing Rey too hard when he feels the telltale signs of her oncoming orgasm. He slips part of his fist into his mouth and bites his knuckles hard in an effort not to follow her—he’s definitely not done with this, there’s still so much he wants to do—as the Bond erupts in her ecstasy while she shouts his name. Poe’s trying to recall the manual for BB-8 units when he notices-

Every object in his room is levitating, including the desk that Rey’s currently half-collapsed on. Rey’s skin seems to emanate a golden light, which extends towards him. Her head is tilted back towards him, and it can’t be more than ten seconds, but Poe recognizes this Jedi Moment for what it is: nothing short of galaxy-shifting.

Poe doesn’t even realize that he’s been floating off the ground as well until he slips out of her. Everything in the room, including him, falls back to the ground as if suddenly remembering gravity when her initial climax ends. Poe laughs, then, having barely managed to stay on his feet, and gazes down at his girl while she’s spread out on the desk, clearly boneless from pleasure.

She’s shivering from aftershocks as he pulls her upright, and then lifts her into his arms. He’s so content, he doesn’t even cringe at how slight her weight is. Poe gets them onto the bed, and surveys the damage to his room. He’ll have to clean it tomorrow, but for now he’s perfectly happy to just lie here and study Rey as she comes back to herself. She looks confused when she sees the room in disarray.

 _Did I do that?_ Her voice is almost sleepy in his head. Poe recognizes the tone for what it is, though. She’s definitely close to dropping, floating from the intensity. He’s seen it before, caused it more than a few times, and he’s even been there himself. Rey’s completely blissed out, having surrendered herself to his control. The very thought of it makes him remember that he’d never finished, and that he’s still ridiculously hard.

“Yes.” He’s not laughing anymore. “You marvelous, wonderful thing. My Jedi.” He needs to kiss her, needs to be inside her. “My perfect Jedi.”  Poe finds the strength and focus to get off the bed, and quickly strips out of his clothes. 

 _Yours._ The statement is massive, for one so short. He loses his breath, staring down at her, frozen with his briefs half-off. She’s lying on the bed, smiling at the ceiling with her eyes closed.

“Are you really mine?” Poe doesn’t recognize his own voice, shadowed as it is by fragile hope. He remembers to step out of his briefs and stands there completely naked, completely vulnerable to her.

Rey takes a few seconds, still floating judging by the Bond, before she answers, “Yes, yes of course.” _Idiot._ She probably didn’t meant to project that last part, but it only makes him love her more.

Poe groans. He staggers to the bed, and climbs over to her, not yet lying down near her or on her. She doesn’t seem to mind his presence, and even in its tranquil state, her body lifts slightly off the bed to try to get closer to him.  

“Good.” The word doesn’t suffice, couldn’t suffice. Nothing could. He clears his throat, trying to make the next declaration as strong as possible. “Because I belong to you, Sunshine.” He pulls her by the hips until she’s right in front of him, legs on either side of his hips. “You’ve got me, mind, body, soul,” He wants her. He loves her. He needs her. Poe closes his eyes, and takes himself in hand, seeking the heat of her, of his Sunshine, one more time. He thinks he’ll expire if he doesn’t feel it soon.  

 _Got you,_ she thinks into the Bond. Poe’s crying, now. There’s no way around it. Crying like he always does when the full realization of how much Rey means to him slams into him. It feels like ejecting from a starfighter mid-Hyperspace.

 _Is this okay?_ He asks her. He needs to know. They might have gone too far in their previous scene; she might be too far gone to consent to this, to another round of him trying to physically demonstrate the depth of his passion for her. If Rey can’t handle more, he needs to know. Poe would rather die than cause her any more pain.

“Yes,” Rey’s eyes open at last, and she seeks his own. She reaches out, arm shaking from the effort, and takes him in hand. Poe closes his eyes, tears still leaking out as he pitches forward into her gentle movements. _But I need you closer,_ she adds. _Please, Poe. I need you._ Her desperation for his touch burrows into his soul. He’s hopeless, as always, to what she wants.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he murmurs. Rey laughs, breathlessly, and he opens his eyes while he leans forward, coming to hover over her heated skin. She makes a frustrated noise, and tugs on him gently using the Force.

 _Want all of you, flyboy._ In a way, he’s glad she’s not calling him Colonel anymore. While he’s definitely, completely sure that he wants to explore _that_ dynamic again, and often, in the future, he just wants to be Poe and Rey now.

Poe lowers himself until every inch of her is covered by his body. And then it’s the easiest thing in the world to thrust back inside, to resume an unhurried, leisurely pace as he commits every sound, every sensation to memory.

“I love you,” Rey sighs, eyes closing again as she relaxes into it. Poe takes a hand off her body, away from its patient exploration of every dip and curve of her, to wipe at his eyes.

He kisses her, slow and sweet, and pours everything he has into his response.

_I love you._

He’s overwhelmed by the truth of it. _They love each other._ There is no Code, there is no war, there is nothing in the galaxy more important than that.

***

As far as he can tell, both he and Rey sleep peacefully, wrapped around each other in his childhood bed. Poe wakes before she does, right around dawn. He presses kisses into her bare shoulder, urging the Force to allow her to keep sleeping.

He rolls out of bed and pulls a pair of short pants on. He doesn’t bother with a shirt—it’s already promising to be hot out, and no one from the colony comes out here, anyway. And he refuses to feel embarrassed for his state of undress when his dad probably has a pretty solid assumption that he and Rey are intimate.

Poe grimaces at the thought of his father as he walks out the door towards the main house, intending to grab something for breakfast that might tempt Rey into eating. While dinner the previous night had been civil, Rey trying desperately to project to both men how much she was unbothered by his father’s cruelty, Poe’s more than a little pissed still. Rey had barely eaten five bites of food at dinner, which suggested to him that she was more unsettled by Kes than she let on. He’ll be damned if she internalizes his dad’s bullshit, well-intentioned or not.

His dad’s already awake, sipping caf on the front porch when he walks by.

“Morning, Poe.”

He barely grunts in response, shoulders already tightening from the tension as he pushes into the house and heads for the kitchen.

The pantry is as well-stocked as ever. Poe grabs homemade sweetbread from its container, and smiles at the memory from the mess hall on base—the first time he’d touched Rey’s face, tucking his thumb into the corner of her mouth with the excuse of chasing a leftover crumb. Poe hopes that the memory is treasure enough for her too, and pops a piece of it into a napkin and slips it into his pocket. He snags a Muja fruit as well, and heads back out the front door.

He pauses when he sees his dad has walked off the front porch and is standing between the main house and Poe’s quarters. He’s faced worse threats than this, though, so he stalks forward undeterred and stops at his dad’s side. “So. Are we leaving today?” Poe asks his father, spine stiff.

“I thought you were staying the week, _mijo._ ” Kes sounds pained.

“I thought so too, but then you said all those horrible things to the woman I loved, so I wasn’t so sure where we landed.” Poe’s probably being cruel, but it won’t stop him from relaying to his dad how badly he upset him, how badly he upset both of them.

“I’m sorry, Poe.” The sincerity in the apology gives him pause.

But then he shakes his head, angry again. “Don’t apologize to me, dad. It’s Rey you should be apologizing to.” Kes looks fully contrite when Poe faces him. He notices that his dad’s hair is completely shot with silver. He’s a 60-year-old veteran, and the years are catching up with him. The knowledge that his dad isn’t a perfect human being shouldn’t unsettle Poe so much—he’s almost 31 now, after all—but it seems there are some lessons that don’t have a mandatory or ideal time to materialize.

“I will, _mijo,_ ” his dad promises. “I just worry, ¿ _sabes_?” Poe nods, reluctantly. He knows. Kes pushes on with, “I don’t mean to project onto other people, Poe, but I can’t help it. You can’t know how badly it hurts me that I wasn’t there for you. I never see you anymore, and I know that’s my fault. I missed so much of your life. I never should have sent you away.”

Poe looks his dad in the eyes, reading the deep-seated guilt. The strength of it, coupled with clear self-loathing, wounds him. As mad as he was at him, he can’t have his dad feel that way.

“I forgave you for that a long time ago,” he insists. “I love you, _papa_. And I love Yavin 4.” He needs his dad to understand the next part, so he sets his jaw when he declares, “But if you ever speak to her like that again—if you ever cause her another moment of pain, for any reason, no matter how noble—I will never come back here.” Poe cuts his hand through the air on the final declaration, his fingers and palm stiff with his emphasis.

Kes looks stricken, but he nods all the same. “I’m sorry, Poe. I didn’t think.” He laughs uneasily. “ _Dios,_ but you look like your mother when you’re yelling at me.”

Both men laugh, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the house Kes had built for the woman he loved, before the Force had taken her from them.

After a moment, Kes asks, “Still got that ring, I see.”

“Never take it off.” Poe pulls the necklace up, slips it over his head, and weighs it in his hand before handing it to his father. Kes holds it reverently in his palm, his own ring shining in the sunlight next to Shara’s. “I’m going to give it to her,” he tells him, watching Kes’s face, daring him to comment.

Before his father can say anything, the door to Poe’s quarters opens, and Rey steps out into the morning light.

She’s wearing her tunic, the one she was wearing when they met, and her hair is up in three buns. Rey tilts her face back into the sun, smiling, and then walks off towards the treeline, quarterstaff in hand.  She weaves in and out of the grass, swinging the staff lazily in her hands, and Poe forgets momentarily what he and his father were talking about, mesmerized by her graceful movement.

Less than two hundred feet away from them, she stops. The morning chorus of Yavin seems to stop with her, as she begins to move through increasingly complicated forms of Jedi combat. 

 _Djem So_ was what Rey had called her favorite form, the one time she had allowed Poe to watch her practice. It had been back on base, less than three weeks after the first time they’d slept together. He’d been subsequently banned from all future practices after he’d tackled her to the mat upon her completion of Form V, kissing her furiously. He’d laughed and told her that she’d invented a new form, Form VIII, where she could just make all her enemies fall in love with her, thus ending any need for combat. Rey had rolled her eyes and used the Force to throw him off of her, and she had kicked him out of the training room over his whiny protests.

Looking back on it, and on everything he’s learned about what remains of Ben Solo, it might not have been as funny a joke as he’d intended.

He’s stirred from his reverie by a sharp intake of breath from Kes. Poe re-focuses his attention on Rey, who’s come to a stop and planted her quarterstaff in the ground. He’s sure if he were closer, he’d see that her breath is barely elevated, the beginnings of a sweat shining on her skin. He looks out to the side of the clearing that Rey’s facing, and realizes what had caught Kes’s eye.

A group of round-bellied Woolamanders have emerged from the trees to the left of the clearing, probably half a troop’s worth. The chubby primates hover briefly, colorful tails swishing, before the Woolamander closest to Rey nudges his brother, face alight with curiosity, and then waddles toward the young woman.

Rey crouches down facing them, staff forgotten as she smiles welcomingly. She holds her hand out, which the animal takes. Poe watches Rey toss her head back, laughing, as the small creature begins to examine her hand, finger by finger. Another Woolamander walks around behind her, and pokes at her hair. Soon, all the little monkeys have circled Rey completely as she settles into the grass, beaming.

“Thought you said you hadn’t seen the little guys recently,” Poe whispers to his dad.

“I haven’t.” Kes wonders. “It’s been months. They were pretty upset by that fire up near their temple.”

The Dameron men continue to stare as the first Woolamander holds out his long, clawed arm, and offers Rey what Poe is pretty sure is a Ghibli fruit.

Poe holds his breath when Rey takes the fruit, looking down at it. She’s still so hesitant to eat, as evidenced at dinner yesterday. The Woolamander who’d given her the fruit nudges her hand, pushing it towards her mouth. When she still seems reluctant to eat it, the smallest of the primates tugs on her elbow, and pulls out his own fruit. He begins to eat it, dramatic in his slowness while he demonstrates for Rey. Poe can feel her amusement through the Bond, and even from this distance he can hear the soft hooting of the troop as they encourage Rey to try.

The Jedi smiles, and takes a bite of the fruit. Poe can feel the apprehension and anxiety fade into interest and delight as the Ghibli fruit hits her tongue. She eats the entire piece, and licks her fingers clean of the purple juice enthusiastically, which earns louder hoots of encouragement from the Woolamanders. One near the back sprints to the trees and re-emerges thirty seconds later, laden down with a dozen Ghiblis and other berries. He races over to Rey and offers her the armful.

Rey presses a hand to her heart, and Poe isn’t sure if it’s him or her that surges with affection and gratitude for the Woolamanders. It must be from him because she startles slightly and looks over at the house. She waves briefly when she sees them waiting there. Rey turns back to her new friends and accepts the gift, obviously thanking them all enthusiastically. The smallest Woolamander, the one who’d thought she needed to be shown how to eat, climbs into her lap, and huddles close to her. She speaks with them, animatedly, while they gorge themselves on varieties of tropical fruit.

His heart is pounding so loudly, he wouldn’t be surprised if his father could hear it. Poe loves her. He loves her so kriffing much that he doesn’t really know what to do with it. He loves seeing her blend into Yavin 4, he loves how easily she wins all creatures over, and he loves seeing her smile. And he loves those pesky little Woolamanders who’ve helped her be excited about food for the first time since _Sidious._

“Never seen anything like that,” Kes says softly. He grabs Poe’s hand, and tucks Shara’s ring back into his palm. “She would have loved her.” His voice is thick with tears, and Poe manages to rip his eyes away from Rey to watch his father climb the steps to the front porch. The older man pauses in the entrance, hand gripping the doorframe, shoulders shaking from emotion, before disappearing into the house.

**

Poe takes her to a shallow river that day, and teaches her to swim. She hadn’t an opportunity to learn on Jakku, and she enjoys the feeling of the water all around her. The activity wears her out though, and she sits on the bank for an hour or so after the lesson, watching Poe navigate the water with natural ease, his tan skin flashing in and out of sight as he shows off for her.

He emerges from the water, breathtaking in his athleticism and grace as he tosses his wet curls. She smiles at him, feeling sleepy, and doesn’t protest when he insists on carrying her back to the house. He brings dinner to her as she lies in bed, the fading sun caught in the window, and she admires the way it brings out the color in his cheeks, the highlights of his hair.

 _You’re beautiful,_ she comments, too full-body tired to speak aloud.

“That’s my line, sweetheart,” he whispers to her. “Can you try to eat something, for me?”

She manages to eat an entire piece of fish, which makes him smile so sweetly it threatens to break her heart. _Sleep now?_ She asks hopefully. Poe stands to stack their plates on his desk, and snags one of his many holonovels from a shelf. He leans back against the wall, and pulls her into his arms. She falls asleep, head resting on his chest, lulled by Poe’s hand stroking her hair while he reads quietly.

The first dream comes as no surprise, even after such a pleasant day.

~

_“Why won’t you choose me?” Ben Solo screams at her. Trees toss wildly behind him, the sky above a torn, bloody red._

_“You were too far gone, Ben,” she explains. “I chose a life of peace. Of happiness.”_

_“And you think your pilot can give that to you?” He demands. “He can give you what you want?”_

_“It’s not about you or him.” Rey is tired of this argument. “I chose the Light. And Poe was there.”_

_Ben roars in anger, and lurches forward. Rey isn’t at all surprised when he lands the blow, searing pain ripping through her as the blade enters her abdomen. She looks down, expecting blood, forgetting that lightsabers cauterize wounds._

_When she looks back up, the scene has changed. The Force pulls her viciously to a new scene, one where she’s a bystander and not a warrior._

_She stands on a crag of rock. The planet below her is a seething, raw mass of fire._

_Mustafar._

_She shouldn’t know the name and yet she does. She hears screaming, the whir of lightsabers, and she spins around on the hill to find the source._

_Aboard a small raft of rock that floats towards her, two men are locked in battle, one charged by fury as much as it is by grief._

_Anakin Skywalker, who she’d so recently befriended, looks monstrous in the light of the molten earth below him. His face is twisted by hatred, and when he seemingly gains the upper-hand on his opponent, a stranger with a handsome face, he taunts him._

_“This is the end for you, my Master. I wish it were otherwise.” His cockiness is his downfall, and his enemy jumps to the shore of the lava river, catching himself with a grace that Rey could only dream of._

_“It’s over, Anakin. I have the high ground.” It’s true in more ways than one. Rey sees the older man’s shoulders sag in exhaustion. She can feel the Force bend around him, almost distracted by his concern for a woman out of sight, aboard a ship, slowly dying._

_“You underestimate my power!” Anakin screams, the desperate edge of it hauntingly similar to someone Rey knows. The platform he’s still standing on is moving steadily away from the shore, but Anakin prepares to jump anyway._

_“Don’t try it,” he begs. Obi-Wan. That was his name. Obi-Wan Kenobi begs Anakin to surrender. He didn’t want this. He had asked to be sent to kill another, not this man. Not Anakin. Anyone but Anakin._

_The young Skywalker roars in fury, and then tries to jump over Obi-Wan’s head._

_Obi-Wan cuts his legs off, and then his arm. Rey chokes on a scream of surprise. The move was vicious, unaligned with most of the forms she’s familiar with._

_Anakin rolls towards the lava, and the fire begins to consume him._

_“You were the Chosen One!” Kenobi shouts. He isn’t taunting. He’s devastated, close to sobbing. “It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them. It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness.”_

_The scene tilts then, wildly, the men’s faces blurred by her own tears. This prophecy had abandoned Anakin, had left him with too high of expectations, too much room for failure._

_Kenobi can’t bring himself to walk away, even now. He turns back, hesitating, and Rey can feel his desire to pull the man before him out of the lava, to steal him away, to fix this._

_“I hate you,” Anakin snarls._

_“You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.” A rift opens in the Force, around the scene._

_It pulls them all backwards, Anakin rolling out of the flame, flipping backwards over Obi-Wan’s head, limbs reattaching effortlessly. They leap aboard the raft, and resume fighting._

_The scene changes, and as the men come back into focus, moving forward once more, Rey gasps at the change._

_Ben Solo slashes viciously at Poe Dameron, who beats him back with a lightsaber of forest green. They’re impossibly, evenly matched, the blade a natural extension of Poe. He must have trained for years to do this._

_Poe makes the jump to the shore, and as Ben readies himself to jump, Poe begs him not to._

_“Don’t do it, Ben,” he shouts. “Please don’t do this.”_

_“You took her away from me!” Ben screams. “You stole her. This was my destiny, and you stole it.”_

_“Ben, please!” Poe is desperate. “Don’t make me do this.”_

_“She was **mine!** ” Ben jumps from the platform. Poe wields his saber both beautifully and viciously, bringing it up without hesitation to dismember the other man. _

_Ben lies there sobbing as Poe deactivates the saber._

_“That’s why you lost her, buddy,” Poe sounds so, so tired. “She didn’t belong to you. People don’t belong to other people.” He shakes his head, turns to leave. “She wasn’t something to fight over. And besides, I didn’t take her away from you. You killed her.”_

_Ben sobs, loudly, as the fire begins to creep up his legs. “Help me,” he begs. “Please, Poe. Help me.”_

_Poe turns over to look at him over his shoulder, and Rey catches a clear glimpse of his face. The pilot looks exhausted, worn down, circles carved deep under his eyes. This is the face of a man who has lost everything._

_She sees the Force’s intention before he makes his decision._

_“Don’t!” She screams, but it’s too late. Poe walks down the shore to his fallen brother, and holds his broken body in his arms. A swell of lava reaches up, and swallows them both whole._

Rey wakes, sobbing.

“Sweetheart?” Poe’s awake a second later, having sensed her distress. “Rey, what’s wrong?”

She’s wordless, patting his body down, seeking any hidden injury. When she finds none, she takes a deep breath to calm herself. Poe strokes sweaty hair out of her eyes as he hovers over her anxiously, half-asleep.

“Sunshine?” He’s still waiting.

“I saw you,” she gasps. “You were a Jedi.” 

“Was I that bad at it?” He jokes, using a thumb to wipe away some of her tears. He kisses her on the nose.

“No,” she sniffles, reaching up to tug a hand through his curls. “No, you were amazing.”

He smiles at her. “Definitely a dream then.”

“It didn’t feel like a dream,” she insists. “It felt like a vision.” _And you died._

Poe frowns. “Sweetheart, I’m not a Jedi.”

“I know. But what if you’re supposed to be?” She tries to show him an image of his stance from the dream, without giving a hint of who he was fighting.

Poe looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “I look pretty good, don’t I?” He smirks. “Badass.” He kisses her deeply, his anxiety settling down massively now that she’s calmed.

“Really, Poe. Our Bond is so strong, and you’re such a talented pilot. It would make sense. Are you Force-Sensitive?”

“Pffffbt,” he makes a dismissive noise as he begins to doze off again, clearly assured that she isn’t having a panic attack. “Rey-Sensitive, maybe.”

Rey summons her lightsaber from her pack, the weapon slapping into her palm.

Poe yelps at the sudden movement and sits upright, now wide awake. She offers him the saber, and he looks at her in bewilderment. It’s such a bizarre echo of her first interaction with Luke that she almost laughs. But she needs to know.

“Take it,” she urges. “Take it and tell me what you feel.” Poe grabs the lightsaber hesitantly, and holds it almost gingerly. Rey stares at him, looking for a reaction. She remembers the first time she’d held Anakin’s lightsaber, how the Force had narrowed down the entire galaxy into a singular, humming truth as It showed her vision after powerful vision. Her life has never been the same since.

Poe sits there awkwardly, weighing the lightsaber in his hands for a solid minute. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes sincerely. “ _Nada_.” He hands it back to her, and Rey takes it. Rey tosses the lightsaber back towards her bag. Poe laughs, and pulls her into his chest. “It’s not a lug wrench, Sunshine,” he scolds her. “Honestly, the way you toss that thing around.”

He falls asleep five minutes later, in the middle of a story about Luke Skywalker and some tree his mom had planted.

Rey doesn’t follow him into sleep. She lies there awake until the dawn.

***

The next day, she asks Poe and Kes about the tree from Poe’s story while they sit on the porch, both men drinking hot caf with plenty of cream. Rey sticks with water.

Kes laughs. “My wife helped Luke take cuttings from the Force tree,” he explains. “It was a surprisingly risky mission, and he thanked her by giving her one of the cuttings.”

“She planted it on our property, about a quarter mile that way.” He points out to the edge of the trees. Following the line, Rey realizes that she’d felt a pull to that area of the property the first day they were here. “Poe was the one who took to it like a fish in water, though. He used to get in trouble for sneaking blankets out of the house, trying to keep it warm during the colder nights. Found him out there sleeping more than once.”

“Dad,” Poe groans. He shoves his dad playfully.

“Would it be alright if I checked it out?” Rey asks. She still isn’t sure how Kes feels about her, and the last thing she wants to do is intrude on a memory of his wife.

Kes smiles at her, and her breath catches at how much it looks like Poe’s own grin. “Go for it, Jedi,” he encourages. “It’s more yours than mine, anyway.” Rey cocks her head at the statement, but thanks him, and stands.

“Want me to come with you?” Poe asks, already beginning to rise.

“No, no,” Rey insists. “Talk to your dad, darling. I’ll be fine.” _I need to do this by myself, I think._ She explains quietly. Poe nods, and settles back into his chair.

“Let me know if you need me.” He hasn’t had her out of his sight for very long over the course of this whole trip, and Rey is amused rather than suffocated by his intense concern.

She feels the weight of his gaze on her back as she heads out to the trees, using her quarterstaff for balance as she walks. The intense humidity of Yavin 4 is slightly mitigated in the shadow of the trees, and Rey breathes deeply when she’s fully in the forest. The smell reminds her of Poe, the way he smells where his neck meets shoulder, the smell mingled on his skin with spice and starshine. Rey hadn’t seen a tree until she was twenty, but she’s fairly certain they’re her favorite natural occurrence.

The thought of trees reminds her of the vision that keeps haunting her, the visions that may be the reason for her intense interest in this Force tree. She hopes that it will provide her some answers, answers about her ongoing connection to Ben Solo, or her inexplicable connection to Poe. Last night’s conversation made it perfectly clear that he was not intended for the Jedi. _So why are they so strongly united in the Force?_

Rey takes a deep breath, and then another. She listens to the Force, and her eyes close as she begins to walk forward. A throbbing core of light in the forest ahead calls to her, using a name she can’t pronounce, but she knows is hers.

Her feet come to a stop of their own volition minutes later. Rey opens her eyes and takes in the Force tree, the priceless gift from Luke Skywalker.

It’s tall and gnarled as it reaches for the heavens, lit with a blue light similar to the one that had surrounded Chirrut and Anakin. There’s a galaxy of color in the tree, and Rey walks forward hypnotized by it.

 _You called to me,_ she says, reaching out through the Force. _And I came._

 _Hello, child._ It’s not a voice but a feeling. It pulls her forward, and Rey stops under the branches, examining the threads of light that pour through the tree. The sight reminds her of a circuit board, of a river flashing in sunlight, of the stream of Hyperspace around the Falcon.

Roots pour in and out of the ground, some reaching up to the sky in the same way the branches do. It reminds her of the waves on Ahch-To. Rey settles herself among the roots, and listens to the Force.

_Why have you called me?_

_To show you the truths you seek._

It sounds a lot like Chirrut, and she smiles fondly.

_Which truths?_

She gasps as a vision pours into her head. It’s less than thirty seconds, but her heart expands, permanently, at the picture of a laughing child in her arms. Poe’s child.

_The boy laughs as he reaches for his papa, who bites at his fingers playfully. Rey has never known happiness this complete. She lifts her eyes to find her closest companion, her fellow Jedi, as he smiles with equal happiness on her husband and son. She returns Ben Solo’s smile as he gazes on their family._

Rey falls forward, catching herself on the roots. She begins to cry.

 _That isn’t fair,_ she scolds the Force, understanding how childish she sounds. _Not when I don’t know how to help him. I don’t know how to bring him back._

 _It isn’t your task to bring him back, child._ The tree tells her this calmly, and Rey dashes the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand. _The answer to your question is simple, but still out of his reach. He will return when he is ready. And you will both continue on this path until he chooses._

She should feel helpless at the suggestion, but instead it settles something deep within her.

 _You said truths,_ she thinks, curiously. _What else do you wish to show me?_

 _The way out,_ it whispers back. _The way through this. The best weapon you could have, the one you already possess._

It beckons her forward, and she unfolds her legs and walks to the tree.

Rey presses her hands against the trunk of the tree, and closes her eyes, forehead coming to rest against the smooth, warm bark. That’s when she feels it, feels a thread somewhere behind her navel, that attaches to the tree in front of her, and stretches out for behind her. Her mind, her spirit, her soul detaches as she slips into a Force-Trance.

Her projected self follows the golden thread, a massive network that weaves in and out of the trees nearby, running the shining cord through her hands as she lets it guide her. It glows brighter and brighter as she approaches her destination.

Kes Dameron’s house is surrounded by the Force, ghosts of signatures lingering on in its shadow. Rey can see the footprints of Master Skywalker, the imprint of Yoda in a flowerbed, even the shadowy figure of Leia sitting on the bench on the porch out front. She sees Poe, as a baby, as a boy, as a young man, his essence carved into the home as if it were part of the architecture itself.

The trail ends at Poe, who’s standing on his front lawn with his father. Kes Dameron’s light is fiercely present, but less brilliant, and a sturdy silver. The gilded connection to the Force tree is entirely, completely attached to Poe. _Guardian,_ the Force whispers in gratitude as her spirit walks up to him. _Keeper. Protector._ Her pilot was never meant to be a Jedi. He was always meant for something more.

Standing there, she recognizes their connection for what it is, finally: a golden root stemming from Shara’s Force tree, a root that had taken hold of Poe’s soul when he was no more than a boy and had branched out, finding and sealing him and his fate forever, through the Force, to its most powerful wielders. To Leia Organa. To Ben Solo. To Rey. The Force tree had ensured that the Force-Sensitive souls who needed him most had gotten him, had been attached and bonded to Poe and his never-ending supply of goodness, of Light, so they could have a beacon to guide them home, to make their aim straight and true as they sought out their path.

Rey understands why Poe’s signature is golden, how it can be golden but still feel so green. His signature had been cultivated by the tree that he loved so much, that he’d cared for as a child. The tree had taken care of him, and in turn, extended a branch into his very soul and asked him to take care of others. A task which he had accepted without failing, loving them as he did, even as he had been hurt, broken, and battered by the galaxy’s worst cruelties.

As she stands under the tree’s branches at the same time she stands by his side, Rey feels limitless love expand inside her heart for this sweet boy who had saved so many and asked for so little in return. She feels the connection between them throb with it, and it carves into her, this knowledge of how much she loves him, her Poe.

 _The Shield of the Force,_ the galaxy whispers to her. Every star aligns around her, inside her.

Rey startles back to her physical self, and takes a moment to embrace the tree. “Thank you,” she whispers to its trunk. “Thank you.” And then she’s running.

As she runs, feeling stronger than she has in weeks, she forgets her anxiety, her lasting pain and exhaustion, her fear of the future.

Rey knows one truth, and as she bursts back into the clearing, the light of Yavin warming her skin, she spots Poe waiting for her.

There’s a way to beat the First Order—it should have been clear to her, watching Finn and Rose grow together, witnessing Leia pour her vitality into the Resistance, feeling the shift in Ben Solo for every kindness she extended him, and mostly it should have been clear as she begins to build a life with Poe—a way through the night, and into a future freed from the Dark.

The only way to bring balance to the Force is through the one thing that unites harmony and chaos, serenity and passion, ignorance and knowledge.

Love is the way out, she thinks, as she hurtles through the grass towards him.

Poe catches her as she skips the last few steps and leaps into his arms. He catches her, like he always has.

Rose was right.

It’s always been love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (it's a little cornball, I know). If you're worried that Rey seems very peaceful/too passive, it's mostly because I'm trying to have her heal/interact with the Force in moments of peace. She's going to have some definite warrior moments coming up.
> 
> Poe and Rey have to return to reality soon. The next chapter will be a Ben POV as we gear towards the final Act of this monstrosity. 
> 
> we've hit over 100K words with this chapter! (Oops)
> 
> PS I spent some time Saturday writing a ridiculous coffee shop AU with Poe as a regular and Rey as the oblivious barista he flirts with so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in (it’s sheer fluff)


	32. Janus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben faces a choice, and the Force won't let him forget it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (unlike 30/31 which are the funtimes on yavin, this chapter is more Kylo Ren/Ben Solo pain train, choo choo)

Ben Solo storms down the corridor in Kylo Ren’s clothing.

He has not slept in a week, not since the vision of Rey dying fully materialized in his dream. Before it had just been a hint, a threat from the Force. He knows better now. Rey is destined to die in that forest, and it will be his fault.

Kylo should be celebratory that the Force has shown him the means to the First Order’s success. Ben understands, though, that wars are not fought between two people. There will be others inspired by Rey’s death, and they might succeed in avenging their sweet Jedi martyr and beat back the First Order. And her death will have been in vain, at least where Ben Solo is concerned.

He sweeps through the door into the chamber where the other Knights of Ren have assembled and asked for his presence.

Urked Ren regards him coolly. “Supreme Leader,” his metallic voice issues through his helmet. “The Knights would like to know how we should best proceed in the Tatooine theater of war.”

“What do you mean, how best to proceed? We aren’t focusing on the Outer Rim.”

“If we destabilize the region, Supreme Leader,” and it’s Ba Ren, now, a small woman from the now-extinct Ileenium system, “We can ensure that there will be no further defections to the so-called Resistance.”

“Tatooine is destabilized enough,” Ben snaps.

“Supreme Leader,” Urked protests.

“Silence.” He doesn’t even roar the word, just whispers it. Absolute stillness descends upon the gathered Knights. “Tatooine is a desert planet filled with orphans and peasants. We should be ensuring their loyalty through programs intended to better their conditions. That would inspire their loyalty. Terror will not work. The past has taught us that.”

Half the Knights hiss in anger, while the other half nod, accepting the premise. Ben rolls his eyes, not caring that his helm is off and they can see his face.

“Now, unless you have something that should actually concern me, I’m leaving. You are all dismissed until further orders arise.”

Ben doesn’t even wait for them to salute; he’s out the door and headed back to his bedchamber before they can.

***

When Ben finally does sleep, the Force returns him to the clearing in the forest, facing the woman he loves, the woman he hates, the woman he’s destined to destroy.

_He raises his weapon, and says, “Choose!”_

_“It’s not my choice, Ben,” she taunts. “It’s yours. It’s always been yours.” Her voice is layered, ominous._

_Impossibly, terrifyingly, Rey splits into three separate forms. They stand next to each other, welded at the shoulder, and each one bears a different expression. Each one promises a different future._

_The first Rey grins, and blood pools in the smile, pouring out of her mouth. “Kill me, and embrace your destiny,” she spits through the hemorrhaging fluid. A massive hole opens in her stomach. She has been felled in battle—in battle with Kylo Ren. “Choose my death.”_

_The second Rey bares her teeth and snarls at him, raising her lightsaber in rage. “Fight me,” she screams. “You fucking coward, fight me!” She knows Ben Solo to be a monster. He killed the man she loved, and her eyes are a bright, glowing red. This Rey has committed many atrocities in the name of her fallen love. “Choose our destruction.”_

_The third Rey looks at him with hope in her eyes. It’s the most dangerous vision yet. “Come back with me,” she begs. “Please, Ben. Come back home, and see what we can build, together.” This Rey reaches out her hand. She reaches for Ben Solo, and he wants to reach back. “Choose a future.”_

_”Choose,” Rey commands in triplicate._

_There’s a screaming cacophony in the clearing. Some great and terrible doom is set to descend upon them and destroy them all._

_Ben makes his choice._

_He dives at the final Rey, knocking her out of the way, protecting her as best he can with his body. **I choose you,**_ _he sobs, soundlessly._ **_Maker, I choose a future._**

_They tumble to the grass, and the smoke-laden air is suddenly sweet._

_Ben manages to stand. He’s alone in a field._

_He’s been here before. He’s in a field with a small house, a tidy garden, and an X-Wing parked in the distance._

_Rey emerges from her flowerbeds, brushing dirt off her pants._

_He might have teased her for it once, but her sweet smile is something too valuable for him to risk._

_“Hello, Master Solo,” she calls. He runs to her side and sweeps her into his arms. When he finds her safe and whole, he kisses her on the temple. She laughs, swatting him. “How was saving the galaxy?”_

_“Just fine, the usual. Only three attempts on my life this time,” he says, voice betraying how glad he is to be home._

_“Just three?” She tsks. “Getting boring in your old age.”_

_“How’s your kid?” He smiles at her._

_“Oh, so he’s my kid, now?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Funny, I think I remember you being there.”_

_Ben laughs, full and loud. It doesn’t hurt his abdominal muscles the way it used to. He’s accustomed to laughing, now._

_“He’s your kid when he knocks a wall down in the sacred temple,” he says, raising his hands in fake-exasperation._

_“Mhm.” She looks unamused. Gods, he loves her so much. Rey hears him through their Bond, which has only been strengthened in this life they’ve built._

_“Love you too, nerf herder.” He knows._

_“Poe!” Rey calls. “Your papa’s home!” A small boy runs out of the garden. He is tall for three years old, and smiles with his mother’s dimples, chocolate brown eyes a replica of his father’s._

_“Papa!” The boy cries as soon as he sees Ben. Poe jumps into his arms._

_“Darling,” he kisses his son on the forehead._

_His son is the brightest star in the galaxy. He’s never been so content, but there’s still the residual bitterness that he got this life at the expense of another. Poe Dameron is nothing more than ash among the stars; his grave lies empty. He feels, rather than hears, his sweet one cry for a dead man through the night._

_Rey loves Ben. He has no doubt. She loves their child, and she loves their home, their life. They’re rebuilding the Jedi, together, the way the Force had shown her the first time they’d ever touched. She is happy, and the Light is still strong with her._

_But her heart broke the day Poe Dameron died, sacrificing himself for the entire Resistance, for a newly-redeemed Ben, and for the woman he’d forced into an evacuation pod minutes before his death. The memory of him promising Rey “I’ll be right behind you, Sunshine”—the only time he’d ever lied to her—cut into her so deeply, it scarred Ben through the Bond. Her heart broke that day, and while she is happy, she no longer burns with the passion and joy that had been forged through her relationship with a cocky pilot who had possessed a heart of gold._

_Ben Solo is many things, but he is not Poe Dameron. And he tries his best not to let that dilute the incredible peace he’s discovered by Rey’s side._

_She is finally his._

_He just wishes the cost hadn’t been so high._

Ben Solo sits under the starviewer in reflection for several hours upon waking. He cannot return to sleep. Something is whispering at the corner of his mind.

The Force has finally shown him a future where he gets precisely what he wants, but still his stomach churns.

 _Come to me_. There’s a ripple in the Force. Ben intends to follow it to its source.

 _Come to me, child._ Ben slips into a meditative trance with more ease than he would have thought possible a year ago.

He’s before a Force tree, one that had been cut from the source by Luke Skywalker himself. It connects to all other points in the galaxy, threads of life tangling together into these gnarled roots. Branches both physical and spiritual weave in and out of the Force, connecting all things.

At the foot of the tree there sits a man. He’s embedded into the essence of the tree, the golden light pouring out of him just as much as it does from the trunk behind him.

Poe Dameron is luminous, and Ben Solo cannot look away.

He has his legs crossed in traditional meditation. His eyes are closed, but he’s the one to speak first, all the same. _Who talks first?_ Ben’s memory mocks him.

“Why are you here?” Poe has asked that question every time Ben has appeared to him, but he doesn’t sound angry, or even curious, this time. He asks like he expects an answer.

“I’m not sure,” Ben whispers. Poe smiles, and then opens his eyes. The brown of his iris is backlit by the energy of the tree, making them look golden, vibrant.

“Sit with me,” he says, gesturing to the tangle of roots next to him.

“Are you going to shoot me?”

“Don’t be an ass,” Poe says, shrugging. “I always wanted to show you this kriffing tree, but you were off being a Jedi and then committing genocide, so it got away from us. Now sit down, and just be Ben for a second.”

“That seems rather…passive of you.”

“I’m on vacation,” Poe snarks. “Sit your ass down.”

Ben rolls his eyes, but gathers up his robes and sits next to his old friend. He folds his ungainly legs and watches the other man settle back into meditation.

“It’s a nice tree,” he says lamely.

“Oh, Maker,” Poe grins, eyes closed again. “You really have no idea, huh?”

”No idea of what?”

“You’re so busy trying to control the Force, to interpret it in the precise way that benefits you, that you forget to actually listen to it.” Ben’s neck feels hot. Poe shouldn’t have such cavalier opinions about something he could never understand.

“I don’t think a pilot should speak so freely about the Force,” he snaps.

“I don’t need to be able to use something to listen to it,” Poe doesn’t sound irritated or even smug, the bastard. He’s simply calm. “Close your eyes, Ben. Listen.”

Ben fights the urge to roll his eyes, and complies. There’s no way Poe can kill him like this—he isn’t even here.

They sit in silence for a minute, and then--“Who taught you how to meditate?”

“Kriff,” Poe curses. “Obviously whoever taught you didn’t do a very good job.” Ben snorts despite himself. “But it was Rey.” That hurts more than he’d expected. “She showed me so I could…control my emotions.”

“You always were a spirited child,” Ben jabs.

“Switch off, Solo. I couldn’t sleep last year, after _The Finalizer,_ and she helped me. It’s how we became friends.”

Glorious. He remembers Poe shaking in Rey’s arms, when she’d accused him of damaging Poe beyond repair. How good to have it confirmed that his rash decision had, in fact, pushed the two together, and pushed Rey further away from him.

“Gods, this works better if you aren’t so pissed off, buddy.” Poe couldn’t sound more dry. “Just breathe. Breathe and listen to the Force.”

“Why are you being so…nice?” Ben has a sneaking suspicion that it’s simply Poe’s nature, but he wants to know all the same.

The other man shrugs. “You’re important to Rey,” he says. “And the tree’s been calling you all day. I don’t want to piss either one off.” A golden tendril snakes down from the branches and braids through Poe’s hair. “Yeah, yeah,” he waves the tree off. “There’s someone waiting for you, Ben. Go talk to them.”

Ben considers the pilot, the man who he had loved above all things as a child. All that time thinking him the best person in the galaxy, and he’d had no idea of his potential.

“I can hear you thinking, bantha brains,” Poe closes his eyes and exaggeratedly assumes a meditative pose. “Just breathe.”

Ben listens, for once.

He slips slowly, further into the trance.

He meditates aboard _The Vader._

He meditates within this version of himself, as well.

He slips deeper into the Force by Poe Dameron’s side, the glowing heat of his former friend shining above him, next to him, around him. It anchors him, and when he opens his eyes, he’s on a newer plane.

A man stands before him.

A scar above his eyebrow nearly matches Ben’s own, and his face is young and framed by long hair. He stands almost as tall as Ben, so he rises as well, leaving another form of himself behind on the ground.

He stands spirit to spirit with this Force Ghost.

“Who are you?” He asks, curiously. He seeks knowledge for knowledge’s sake, which might be why the ghost answers him.

“You’d think you’d recognize your own grandfather,” the ghost comments.

Ben hasn’t felt this surprised since a skinny girl with no training kicked his ass on _Starkiller._

“I’ve spoken to my grandfather,” he says, slowly. “Darth Vader.”

Anakin shakes his head, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry, kid. That was a trick. Snoke fooled you into thinking you had a vision of me as Darth Vader.”

Ben seethes. The Force roils around him, and the blue light that throbs around Anakin shifts to purple, clearly on its way to red.

“Easy, Solo,” he says, raising his hands. “That Skywalker temper is hereditary, among other things, and I don’t want to lose mine either.”

“Why have you come here?” Ben remembers Poe, sitting behind them. He whirls around and snaps, “Did you know it was him?”

Poe doesn’t answer or even open his eyes.

“He can’t hear us,” Anakin points out. “He’s communicating with the tree.”

“Seems appropriate for his intellect,” Ben comments sardonically, facing Anakin once more.

“Don’t talk about the tree that way,” Anakin warns. “It was smart enough to bring me here.”

“And why was that?” Ben grits between his teeth. The shadow of Darth Vader has already led him astray in his life. What damage could he possibly wish to cause now?

“I wanted to meet you,” he shrugs. “And talk to you about your upcoming choice.”

“My choice?” Ben begins to pace. “ _My_ choice?” If there was something to kick on this astral plane, he would. Darkness swirls in him, slamming into the reserves of Light he’s been building up in the past months. “No matter what choice I make, someone I love dies.”

Anakin looks at him steadily. “And that’s what the Force has shown you?” He asks. “A solid future?”

“It keeps changing,” Ben spits. He stands still and stares his grandfather down. “Why does it keep changing?”

“Because you haven’t made your mind up, yet,” Anakin tells him. “There are many factors involved here. Don’t be blinded by a single outcome of your choice.”

This seeming dismissal makes Ben’s blood boil. “A single outcome?” He hisses. “Her death, you would reduce to ‘a single outcome’?”

“She chooses to leave the Light and join you, part of her soul dies,” Anakin looks angry, too. “And you will forever regret it. She chooses to fight you, and you die. Or, you kill her, and that in turn will kill you.” Ben shakes his head against what he already knows. “Or another option: she chooses to continue to chip away at your Dark, and she becomes distracted from her own purpose, her own safety. You never turn, and she dies.” Anakin’s robotic hand clenches. “And I know personally how that feels. It will destroy you. Believe me, Ben. I understand better than anyone how it feels to fight the Force and its intentions. I know firsthand the consequences of refusing to see another outcome, of trying to bend It to my will.”

“If she joins me—if she would just let the past go, and leave this all—she doesn’t have to die!” Ben roars at Anakin. Poe stirs beside him.

“What makes you think there’s a future where she doesn’t die?” Anakin asks cryptically. “All life ends, Ben. There is no way to conquer death. She isn’t yours to protect from that, especially when Rey herself doesn’t fear what comes after life."

“I refuse to be so weak,” Ben hisses. “I refuse to let her die.”

"It isn't weakness, kid. After all, it was my own acceptance of death that reunited me with the Light, in the end. I embraced my destiny, to save my son. My love for him saved me, and saved the galaxy."

The tempting image of his son with Rey, the one from his bittersweet dream, rises within him. He pushes it out of his heart as hard as he can. "I refuse to accept the scraps the Force has shown me." He is adamant in his rage, his denial. "I refuse to accept her death, even if she would accept it herself."

“If the Force has shown you—”

“The Force is **wrong!** ”

Anakin sighs. “I hope for your sake It is, Ben. But having met the girl, I can tell you. She does not fear the Force. And when it comes time, she will embrace her destiny, as she always has.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ben snarls. “Grandfather, wait!”

Anakin is beginning to fade. “Don’t make my mistakes, Ben,” are his parting words. “Don’t turn towards hatred. Make your choice. And choose correctly.”  

Ben is alone under the tree. His secondary body waits for him in the roots, next to the peaceful form of Poe Dameron. He shudders as he feels Anakin’s presence fade completely and he's back under the tree, in his projected form.

When he twitches and looks around, Poe’s eyeing him. He’s still wrapped in the protective glow of the Force tree, and his eyes are kind, if wary.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing,” Ben snarls. He stands, moves away from the tree. He focuses as hard as he can on his connection to this place, and prepares to sever it.

Before he can though, he needs to address the man behind him.

“Could you let the girl go, if it would save her?” He asks.

“Of course,” Poe answers without hesitation. He’s a better man than Kylo Ren, or Ben Solo. But maybe that’s the point. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Even if it meant telling her to leave the Resistance, to leave all of this behind?”

Poe frowns. “I can’t tell her to do anything, Ben. She’s a person. I don’t control her.”

“But she listens to you!” She doesn’t listen to Ben, so he regretfully needs this man to do his work for him. “If you convinced her that the only way for her to survive would be to leave—to leave and start over, to renew the Jedi and save the galaxy away from the First Order, away from the Resistance—she would be saved.”

“Saved from what?” Poe stands now, and the Force shifts around him as his brow lowers.

Ben doesn’t answer him, just mutters, angrily, “You could save her.”

“Ben—save her from _what_?” It’s time to leave. He’s already said too much, risked too much.

“Ask her about the forest, pilot. I know you haven’t yet.” Poe’s face confirms this truth.

“Ask her about the place where she dies.” Ben pulls away sharply, but not before he sees Poe Dameron stumble back into the tree’s embrace, stricken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Ben.  
> Oh, Force.  
> (don't worry we'll backtrack a little bit and get some of Poe's POV in this scene next chapter)
> 
>  
> 
> p.s. that coffeeshop AU that I mentioned is now 10k words of ridiculous fluff and angst and idk what even happened yikes.


	33. What Lies Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey leave Yavin; Poe and Rey have an uncomfortable conversation that ends in much angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rey uses sex to avoid an argument at the end, mild smut

Poe eyes his friend-turned-enemy warily as he storms away from the Force tree. Whatever Ben saw, it’s made him astronomically more unpleasant.

Ben's demanding weird answers from Poe, really earning his title “Darth Bitchfit,” when he says something that has Poe stumbling forward. 

“If you convinced her that the only way for her to survive would be to leave—to leave and start over, to renew the Jedi and save the galaxy away from the First Order, away from the Resistance—she would be saved.”

“Saved from what?” Poe bristles, suddenly very afraid. The Force tree reaches out behind him to soothe him, but he ignores it, and takes a step forward, willing Ben to respond.

“You could save her.” _What the fuck does that mean?_

“Ben—save her from _what_?” Poe shouts at him, frustrated that he won't answer.

“Ask her about the forest, pilot." There he goes again, with the forest. Poe hasn't brought it up to Rey, having been too focused on her recovery and happiness the last few weeks. "I know you haven’t yet.”

The next words out of Ben's mouth promise an agony Poe never thought possible. “Ask her about the place where she dies.” He disappears into the Force, and Poe feels his back slam into the tree. 

He leans against the trunk, chest heaving, for a long time before he pushes away, ignoring the tree's call for him to turn around and sit, to listen. The Force may have asked too much of him, this time.

When Poe walks towards his house, he can see Rey laughing on the front lawn with his father. Kes is trying to juggle Muja fruit to impress her, but he keeps dropping them. Beebee and Niney are a captive audience, and as Poe approaches, he hears Niney declare [The Jedi Commander is much better at this than you, Older Dameron].

“Oh yeah? Let’s see if she can prove it,” Kes throws four Muja at Rey.

“That won’t do,” Rey cries. Kes smirks, but before he can even suggest that she drop one, Rey begins to toss the fruit up in the air, the definition of casual. “Give me another!”

“Kriffing hell,” Kes laughs. He throws her one more, and Rey begins to juggle them higher, smiling obnoxiously. “You can’t use the Force to do that, it’s cheating!”

“The Jedi do not use the Force for such trivial matters,” Rey says primly, continuing her movements without thought. Poe raises an eyebrow, forgetting the pain in his chest momentarily when his dad shoots Rey a completely un-fatherly hand gesture. “Be careful, Mr. Dameron, or you’ll be wearing these fruits.”

Kes snags another fruit and leans back to throw it at Rey’s face.

“I wouldn’t try that, Dad, or you’ll see what she can actually do with the Force,” Poe warns.

Kes drops the Muja guiltily. “She started it!”

“Did not!” Rey gasps. The fruits hang suspended in the air as she lifts her hands in protest.

[You dared him to juggle, Mistress-Rey,] Beebee supplies, helpfully. [Was this not your prime directive, to demonstrate your skill?]

“Hush, Beebee,” Rey giggles. The Muja fall at her feet.

“Mistress?” Kes asks.

“Shut up,” Poe hisses, “All of you.”

***

They leave Yavin 4 two hours later. Poe hugs his father so tightly, he swears he feels a rib crack.

“Don’t be a stranger, _mijo,_ ” his dad whispers. “And you were right about her. Hold onto this one. Don’t wait to ask.”

Poe nods. “I won’t,” he assures him.

Kes hugs Rey back, and she lifts him into the air in her enthusiasm. They roar with laughter, and Kes tugs on her braid. “Take care of my idiot kid, Rey.”

“I’ll try,” she rolls her eyes. “Despite his best efforts, I intend to make sure he gets through this in one piece.”

Kes waves at them as they take off. Poe imagines he’s waving long after they hit Hyperspace. 

***

“Do you think your dad still doesn’t approve of us?” Rey has been quiet for the most of their journey to Spira, which Poe was hoping had more to do with her task as pilot. This random question tells him her silence was actually born of contemplation.

“No, he told me he approved of you,” Poe tells her. He doesn’t tell her that Kes approved of him proposing, with his mother’s ring. He wants to save that information for later, for after he’s actually asked her.

“Even though I’m a Jedi who doesn’t deserve you?” She laughs, but she doesn’t seem happy. She seems like she believes what his dad had said. Poe cringes.

“I’m glad you two got along, in the end, but Rey, kriff, I still can’t fucking believe he said that to you. I don’t want you thinking that. I’m sorry he said it. Sorry he even thought it.”

“Don’t apologize, Poe. He’s your dad, and he was looking out for you. That’s his job. He’s family.”

“You cannot deny the truth that is your family.” Poe laughs, sadly, at his own statement. “Sorry. An old friend said that.”

“Who?” Poe wonders if she can feel the seams of his heart ripping, opening a wound he’d stitched together hastily in the middle of war in a desperate attempt to keep going, to survive torture, to live another day without letting the ghosts of the dead weigh him down.

“His name was Lor San Tekka. When we were growing up, Leia took Ben and me to visit him a couple times.”

“Lor San Tekka.” Rey’s nose wrinkles in thought. “I know the name—he lived on Jakku! He used to sneak extra rations to the orphans.” She giggles. “He would make faces at Unkar behind his back, great terrible faces like a blobfish. I liked him. Oh! Here we are.” They drop out of Hyperspace and Rey tugs on the hydraulic release, switching to manual control to begin their descent into the atmo of Spira.

Poe swallows. He hates that he has to tell her this. “He’s dead, Rey.” The clouds stream past them as they break through the lower levels of the atmosphere, the dazzling beaches of the former resort planet stretching below them. Poe double-checks the coordinates for the secured safehouse, a small cottage Leia used to visit as a girl, and mentally prepares himself to admit the rest of it out loud.

“He was rather old, wasn’t he?” She doesn’t look up from the B-level engine controls as she initiates landing procedure, but she still sounds sad.

“No, Rey,” he corrects her assumption.  “He was the one who had the map to Luke Skywalker. Kylo Ren killed him in front of me. I couldn’t save him.” The X-Wing hits the sand softly, a perfect landing.

“Poe.” Rey takes her hands away from the console and grabs his wrist.

“He was nothing but kind to us when we were kids,” Poe whispers. He doesn’t look at her. “And he killed him, like he was nothing.”

“You must think I’m crazy,” she laughs again, but it’s bitter now. “To try and save Ben.” _Fuck,_ she thinks. Rey shakes her head and then pops the canopy open, jumping out to the ground.

Poe climbs down, feeling the muscles in his back protest slightly, a result of too many hours in a cockpit over the last twenty-odd years. The turquoise sea of Spira laps against the white sand of the shore, a peaceful gradient connecting to the soft blue sky. A cottage is nestled among the trees to their left, windows open to catch the breeze. When BB-8 and BB-9E drop from the back of the ship, they scramble for purchase, round bodies battling the sand.

“I’m going to have to clean your joints out later, huh?” He laughs at their attempts to roll normally. “You guys look like you’ve had a bit too much to drink!” Beebee chirps at him, sliding towards the cottage, and Niney bumps into Poe’s leg very decidedly.

[Apologies, Colonel Dameron] it says coolly. [The sand has disrupted my ability to move in a stable manner.]

“That’s fine, Niney,” Poe says. The droid bumps into him again, harder. “That felt a little on purpose, though.”

[Apologies]. Niney keeps rolling past him, suddenly far more in control of its movements.

Poe’s smiling still, trying to smile through the nervous flock of birds that has taken flight in his chest, when he turns to look at Rey.

She’s holding herself to look smaller, arms folded around her body while she faces the ocean. _Is that a yes?_

“No, sweetheart, I don’t think you’re crazy.” He walks forward, and wraps his arms around her. Poe drops a kiss onto her neck, and rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks out with her.

The tide drags in and out, and he tries to mimic the rhythm of the waves in his breathing while he waits for Rey to challenge him on his answer. She doesn’t, but her body stays stiff in his arms. He feels the doubt running through her, chilling and syrupy.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he whispers, barely audible over the roar of the water. “I love you, sweetheart. I love that you aren’t giving up on him. But he’s done so much. He’s hurt so many people I love. I’m not sure if he can be forgiven, or saved, no matter how persuasive you can be.”

“I can’t believe that,” she says. “Poe, I can’t accept it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he has to be saved. He has to. There has to be a way back for him. Everyone can be saved.” She’s louder now, her adamant declaration so at odds with what Poe thinks is possible. “And you think I’m crazy, or, or, _naïve_ for wanting to help him. Don’t lie to me, I can feel it in you. And it breaks my heart that you don’t believe he can come back.”

For the first time, Poe wishes she couldn’t feel him in the Bond. He can’t lie to her, she’s right. While part of him still hopes she can save Ben—and if anyone can, it’s her—the soldier in him recognizes the zero sum game of what she’s trying to do. _Ask her about the forest,_ Ben’s voice hisses at him.

“I think you need to start considering what your plan is if you can’t save him, sweetheart.” She pushes his arms off her torso and stalks forward, putting her toes in the water. 

“He’s done so much, Rey. He killed Lor. He killed _Han._ ” And that still hurts to say, to think. “Fuck, his people killed the entire Hosnain system, five million people, without even blinking. Why do you think he can come back from that?” He doesn’t sound angry, at least he doesn’t mean to. She flinches all the same and Poe feels something curdle, hot and bitter, in his stomach.  

“I don’t know!” She hiccups. Fucking fuck. She’s crying. He made her cry. Her shoulders shake as she says, “No. I do. It’s because I understand him, Poe. I hate that I do, but I understand him. When Snoke had me, I felt it. I felt how easy it was to turn. I almost _did_ , for Ben. I thought if I gave in, I could help him. You can’t know how intoxicating the power of the Dark Side is. To someone like me, someone who has nothing. Someone who _is_ nothing.” He can tell that she’s wiping her eyes, and Poe tries to talk again, to correct her, but she waves it off impatiently, still not looking at him. “You don’t understand that I could be just like Ben. Like Kylo Ren.”

Poe stumbles as he tries to run to her side, the sand tripping him when he moves too quickly. He splashes into the tide and puts his body in front of her so she can see him, so she can see how much he means it when he says, aghast, “Rey, honey, no one thinks that—”

“They do,” she insists. Her face is red, swollen, and she refuses to look him in the eye. He reaches out to touch her face and she leans into it. “I know you don’t, not yet. But others have.” She’s sobbing now, and jerks her face away from his hand. “Master Luke felt it. He didn’t want to train me because of it, because of all this darkness inside of me. He thought I would turn.” Her voice is growing higher, a hysterical edge tinging it, and Poe is utterly helpless, wishing that the sea would reach up and swallow him whole, that the galaxy would take him in place of allowing her to suffer. “Even I think it, sometimes. So, I have to believe that I can help him. I have to want to help him. Because what if it happens to me? What if no one believes that I can be saved from it, from myself? What if I turn and no one bothers to try and bring me back?”

He’ll die before that happens. Poe swears on every star he can name that he won’t let that happen. He grabs her arms, thumb skittering over the scar she’d gotten in Snoke’s throne room over a year ago.  “I’ll never let that happen to you, Rey,” His throat is raw from the sincere harshness of his promise. “Never. I failed Ben, but I won’t fail you.”

Poe slides his hands up past her neck, and cradles her jaw. He tilts her head and kisses her, harder than he usually does, but he needs her to understand. _Never, I’ll never leave you. I’ll never turn my back on you._

“I know, darling.” She accepts another, hungrier kiss. If he could, he would wrap himself around her and protect her from every foul thing that waits for her, Force be damned. They break apart, panting, and Rey fits her smaller hands over his, where they still rest, framing her face.

“You could never fail me, Poe. And you certainly didn’t fail Ben. It’s funny, I said something similar to Luke before I knew what he’d done. But I think it’s actually true for you. Ben failed you, not the other way around.”

“What did Luke do?"

“He saw the Dark rising in Ben, and he tried to kill him. It was the final push Snoke needed to win him over.”

“Kriff.” Poe doesn’t have words for that. He lets go of Rey, palms suddenly sweaty with disgust. “He fucking _what_?”

“Luke wasn’t a perfect person,” Rey says, biting her lip. She scans the horizon over Poe’s shoulder. “More and more it seems like the Jedi are traditionally less perfect than most.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Poe shrugs. _You’re pretty perfect._

“Oh, hush, flyboy.” She smiles again, and looks him in the eyes. He breathes a little easier.

“And no matter what Luke did to Ben, he hasn’t turned his back on the Jedi completely. He saved you on _Sidious,_ and he hasn’t even tried to Force-choke me recently.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Rey freezes up immediately.

“What?”

“Shit,” he needs to explain himself now. “I meant to tell you before, but he’s been showing up to me as well. I don’t think it’s the same as your Bond. It’s more like he’s projecting himself through the Force, like Luke did on Crait.”

“When did you see him?” Rey demands, tension building in her shoulders again. “What did he want?”

Poe sighs. He should have told her the first time. “When you went to Scarif, he checked with me after he couldn’t find you.” The memory of the devastation in Ben’s eyes, fueled by his possessive jealousy, still scares Poe. “And then he appeared to me when you were in the Med Bay, recovering. And then again when I was meditating under the Force tree. Talked about your destiny.” Her destiny. _Ask her about the place where she dies._

“He tends to do that, yeah.” Rey moves away from him, walking through the sand towards the small house, the Bond roiling with conflict. He can sense her discomfort and her desire to be done with this conversation, but the question that’s threatened to burn him alive for the last day needs to be asked.

Poe strides forward until he’s in front of her, blocking her path. “He told me to ask you – Rey, what have you seen ? What happens in the forest?”

Rey looks scared—Poe’s seen her exhausted, fierce, pained, tortured. He’s never seen her scared. His gut clenches when she says, “He shouldn’t have told you about that.” She pushes past him, her nails clearly digging into her palms. Poe follows her, helpless to her orbit like he has been for a year. Rey stops at the treeline, and he hears her, softly, say, “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“Rey, tell me,” He’s not above begging. “Sweetheart, is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Do you die? Has the Force shown you that you die there?”

“The Force shows me a lot of things.” That’s an evasive answer, and it makes his blood boil.

He’s louder now, shouting at her when he's never so much as raised his voice at her before. “Fucking hells, Rey, tell me the truth. Do you die, at the end of this, in that forest?”

“I might,” she says. “It’s not decided yet. I might die, I might not. There are many possible futures, still.”

“There has to be a way around that,” he insists. “You don’t have to die.”

“It might be necessary,” Rey continues on as if he hasn’t spoken, as if what he has to say doesn't matter. “The Force might need me to die for Ben to be saved. For the galaxy to be saved. For this war to end. And I’ve decided to accept that.”

“No,” Poe shakes his head, forgetting she can’t see him. Hopefully she can feel him, but the Bond is so tangled with a mess of emotion, he can’t tell who’s feeling what. He’s worried that he’s the one in conflict, and that she’s merely letting it all pass through her, unbothered by her potential death. “That can’t be your decision.”

Rey’s voice is low, and she still faces the small bungalow, not him. “If my life is the price to pay for the safety of the galaxy, then it isn’t a hard decision to make.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart,” Poe remembers how to kriffing move, and he walks forward. He grabs her shoulder, spins her to look at him. “Sunshine, don’t you know? There isn’t a galaxy without you.” He cups her face delicately on his last declaration, stroking her cheek with his thumb, begging her with his eyes to believe him.

“Poe,” her smile is watery but no less bright for it. “That’s very romantic, but that isn’t how this works. One life is not more important than the galaxy.”

 _I beg to fucking differ_.

She hears him through the Bond.

“Poe,” she sounds so tired and her face is lined in pain. He worries briefly that she’s on the verge of a nerve attack, but her pain seems to be of a different type, this time. “This is what your dad was talking about. I will always want you, always love you, but my duty is to all people, the entire Force. If I die following that duty, if I don’t survive this war, I will accept it. I wish you would, too.” 

She always thinks so highly of him, and Poe has, at least, historically agreed with the general consensus that he’s a better person than Ben fucking Solo. But right now, he’s feeling selfish, which makes him stupid, which makes him say:

“I’m going to ask, okay? Just this once.” Poe prays fervently, an increasingly frequent action. _Force, Maker, anyone who’s listening. Just this once, let me have this. Let me keep one person I love with me._  “Just this fucking once. Survive this. Survive this and be with me.” Her grief is a jagged wound in her eyes. She’s crying in earnest again, shaking her head through her trembling. He wipes the tears away as well as he can, and he kisses her before she can respond, before she can argue again. “At least try, for me.” _Please._

“Poe,” is the only thing she says. Rey kisses him, and he returns it, greedily, desperately, like a drowning man searching for air.

He pushes her back towards the cottage, walking up the steps. His body presses hers against the door, and he holds her as close as he can with clothes in the way, trying to pour everything he feels for her into the kiss. He only breaks away from her long enough to open the damn thing. Beebee and Niney squeal, rolling out of the way after the pilots tumble through the entrance, and Poe kicks the door shut behind them, still kissing her urgently.

 _Please, sweetheart,_ he begs her. Rey doesn’t respond, merely runs her hands along the length of his torso, and reaches for his belt. She slips a hand inside his pants, and Poe bucks up into it. But he’s still focused on getting an answer. _Please listen to me._ He remembers, distantly, Ben’s insistence that the way for her to survive would be to leave. Poe’s so fucking desperate, he might just do as Solo suggested, and demand that she run away from all this, to save herself.

“I love you,” Rey murmurs into his mouth. “I love you, Poe Dameron.” She does something with her hand that has him seeing stars, and he needs her closer, he needs to be inside her.

They find the bed somehow, shedding their clothes with increasing speed.

Poe loses himself in her, like he always does, and it isn’t until after he comes with startling intensity, his vision whiting out for what could be an eternity, that he realizes she still hasn’t given him a straight answer.

Rey kisses him, mouth finding every inch of his body as he trembles, and she pushes how much she loves him through the Bond. It is the only thought she projects, and Poe clutches it like a lifeline.

 _I love you_ is the last clear thought he has before falling deeply asleep, curled in Rey’s arms, his back to her chest.

***

When he wakes up the next morning, the mattress is cold behind him. He starts, and then falls out of bed, knocking Beebee off his charging station in his sprint for the door. Rey’s gone, and his chest tightens in panic as he throws himself into the outside world.

He takes a deep, gulping breath when he sees her on the beach, but his relief fades so quickly, he swears he has whiplash.

Poe walks forward to the waterline as if in in a trance. He stops maybe twenty feet away from her, physically unable to go any further. Rey is sitting, cross-legged, about four feet from the ground. Hundreds of gallons of water have risen from the ocean, and have come to hover, to dance around her body in droplets and rivulets. Her hair floats in a twisted halo around her head, and her eyes are closed in what could be bliss, but more closely resembles agony.

The saltwater blends with her tears. He cannot reach her through the Bond, but still, he knows. Something terrible rises in him, threatening to snuff out the small spark of hope the woman before him has been so instrumental in preserving. He knows what she’s decided, what she had already decided.

Despite all his begging, his tearful pleas, he knows that she’s made up her mind.  

Rey will not fight her destiny, even if it means her death. Even if it means that Poe will lose his galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Don't use sex to avoid arguments, you two).


	34. If the Force Wills It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey reflects on the vision that caused her to push Poe away, and she meets someone who's been watching her for a long time.
> 
> Poe waits for Rey to wake up, and seeks help from an unexpected source.
> 
> Rey grows to understand the Force a little more, and apologizes to Poe.

The pre-dawn  air is chilled when Rey finally moves from Poe’s side. She hadn’t slept all night, and instead traced her fingers lightly around the moles of his back, resisting the urge to find the constellations with her tongue. That would have woken him and encouraged another round of frantic love-making. She doesn’t think she can bear the vulnerability. Not right now. Not when there’s so much she’s keeping from him.

She didn’t sleep all night, fearing a repeat of the previous day’s vision.

As she walks to the shore, the weight of it presses against her unbearably, and she falls to her knees in the oncoming tide. Rey closes her eyes and lets the memory wash over her.

***

(The Previous Day)

Kes and Poe chat on the lawn animatedly in Yavinese – it started as an argument about the best novel in a series they both liked to read and had quickly descended into a playful shouting match about the nature of the universe itself – and Rey walks away to say goodbye to Yavin 4. They’re leaving in an hour.

She slips in and out of the trees, hoping to see one of her friends; she had tucked extra sweetbread into her tunic this morning in hopes of thanking them for their kindness the first day she was here.

A few minutes into her search, a small Woolamander hoots at her from a branch low on a tree in recognition. “Hello there,” Rey laughs.

The monkey chitters at her as she extends a piece of bread, and she beams up at him. “Where are your friends, sweetie?”

The primate clutches the bread and cries something at her, fingers moving almost anxiously around the slice. “Don’t speak Woolamander,” Rey reminds him. “Yet.” She shrugs and hands the rest of the wrapped loaf to the little guy. “Try to share this, my love.” The Woolamander accepts her gift solemnly, and when his claw brushes her hand, Rey shivers, something sliding down her spine.

The monkey leaps away, and Rey turns from the tree.

She’s no longer on Yavin 4.

_The forest is less dense than the jungle, and the air is acrid with smoke. Rey’s pulled forward; she has no control over her body_

_One must fall. One must die._

_The voice won’t let her forget._

_“What does that mean?” She screams into the uncaring Force. “What if I don’t accept that?”_

_She’s watching the battle, this time. Kylo Ren circles her, spirit switching rapidly between the Supreme Leader’s malice and Ben Solo’s fragile kindness. “I didn’t have a choice,” he shouts at her, diving at an opening on her left side._

_Rey barely parries it and sweeps his legs out from underneath him with a flick of her hand. He falls to the ground._

_The Jedi levels the lightsaber at his exposed throat. “Yield!” She should demand._

_“I’m giving you a choice now,” she says instead. “Choose something better.” The Rey of the vision deactivates her saber and throws it away, boldly extending her hand to the man on the ground._

_Ben Solo grabs her hand, and she pulls him up, up into the Light once more. Ben loves her as much as Kylo hates her, and this is enough to save him._

_One must fall._

_One must die._

_The forest disappears and she’s in her body once again. Lights are flashing and sirens blaring on a ship with cold, white corridors._

_The General clutches her heart and staggers._

_“Leia!” Rey screams. She and her son had fought too fiercely minutes before, and she’d lost her breath. Coupled with the ongoing assault on their vessel, it was too much. Something has gone horribly wrong inside Leia, and Rey can feel the muscles in her chest weakening, too flooded by adrenaline to push through._

_“Mother,” Ben cries, falling to his knees to catch her when she collapses._

_The ship rocks sideways, viciously. “We’re taking on too many hits,” Rose shouts, sprinting past them as smoke starts to billow from the vents. “The engine room is probably going to blow in a few minutes.”_

_Ben and Rey stare at her in blank confusion, too focused on the woman in Ben’s arms. Rose spins, pausing briefly, and shrieks, “Get the fuck off the ship!” and they suddenly understand._

_“Take your mother,” Rey shouts, standing quickly. She needs to get to the officers’ deck. “Go!” Ben grabs her hand._

_“Come with me,” he begs her._

_“I’m coming,” Rey says. “But I need to get him first.”_

_“Rey, there isn’t enough time,” Ben insists. “He knows how to get off a ship. Please, Rey. You can’t die. There’s so much left we have to do.” He sounds broken, and she doesn’t have time for this._

_“I won’t die,” she waves him off._

**_Please. I love you_ ** _. Rey stumbles backward, shaking her head. “Ben.” It’s a warning, and he understands._

_“Go get him, then,” Ben folds his mother into his arms and runs for the escape pods._

_Rey sprints to the upper deck, bracing herself against the walls when the ship tilts once more. The sirens are louder up here, and she coughs from the increasing smoke._

_“Poe!” She shouts the second she’s on the bridge._

_He’s standing at the gunner controls, looking grim. “Sunshine,” he says. He doesn’t look at her. “Get off the ship.” Beebee coos in anxiety at his feet, rolling in tight circles around the station._

_“Not without you,” she runs to his side and tugs on his hand. “Come on, Poe, we need to leave!”_

_Poe looks at her, heartbroken but resolute. “Rey,” he says. She knows that face. He’s going to do something brave, and stupid. “Someone has to stay here and manually fire these weapons. It’s probably the only way those pods are going to have enough time to get to safety_.”

_“No, Poe, come on,” she’s crying, tugging on his hand. “There are escape pods right outside those doors. I’m not getting in one without you.” They need to get off this dying ship. They need to get to The Skywalker, the ship hundreds of miles the other way, before this one goes down._

_“Okay, sweetheart,” he relents. Something feels wrong, but she chalks it up to the potential for them to die. He jogs behind her to the entrance of the bridge, where the pods are located. She keys in the access code to the first pod, and keys in one for the second, as well._

_“Ready?” She asks him as the doors hiss open._

_“I’ll be right behind you, Sunshine,” he kisses her deeply, hands framing her face. Even in the belly of a collapsing spaceship, Poe’s mouth on hers has the ability to make time stand still. He kisses her like it’s the first time, exploring her as carefully and thoroughly as he can in a few tense moments. Poe grabs her hand in his, and she feels something press into her palm before he shoves her, hard, into the pod._

_Her back slams against the wall, and the door hisses shut._

_“No!” she screams. “Poe!” He leans his forehead against the small viewer window, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Rey slams her hand against the glass, screaming his name even as she tries to isolate the locking mechanism through the Force. Her terror won’t let her focus, and Poe’s eyes open to meet hers._

_“I love you,” she sees his mouth form the words, but she can’t hear him. “Sunshine.” He reaches down, out of sight, and his hand must have found the release command. The pod falls into open space._

_Rey sobs in anger, in denial, for the entire three minutes she soars rapidly away from the ship. When she finally docks aboard The Skywalker, she leaps out into the hangar bay, and sees the ship she just came from firing on the First Order ships. There’s something cold and metal in her hand. Rey looks down in confusion, and sees what Poe handed her._

_It’s a ring, the ring he always wears, the one he never takes off._

_She’s holding his ring, and he’s nowhere in sight._

_“Rey!” Ben’s sprinting towards her. “Where’s Poe?”_

**_There must be balance,_ ** _the voice of the Force reminds her, coldly. **One must fall. One must die. This is the price.**_

_The Resistance ship in the distance takes on too big of a hit, and she feels the ripple in the Force as the systems all fail. Both Jedi watch in horror as the ship collapses inward, a swiftly combusting firestorm eviscerating the spacecraft.  Rey staggers. Her connection to Poe, the lifeline that has been so constant in her life for over a year, her guiding star – is gone._

_Rey feels part of herself detach. She hasn’t felt like this since Scarif, but it’s bigger now, darker. This is driven by rage, by fear and hatred._

_She feels the thousands of men and women aboard the First Order ships. They blink like grey lights in the Force, thousands upon thousands of Force signatures that she once thought had every right to exist, just as much as she did. She isn’t so sure anymore, now that the man she loves is dust and ash._

_Rey feels something in her break. It will never be repaired._

_The Jedi feels the Light inside her dim. Ben feels it too._

_“Rey,” he stumbles forward. “Rey, don’t—”_

_There’s a horrible scream rending the air. It’s her. Rey extends her hand, feeling her heart harden with finality. Poe is dead. They killed him. They’re monsters, and they don’t deserve to live._

**_Use your anger,_ ** _a new voice encourages her. **Destroy them.**_

_Don’t need to tell me twice, the ghost of Poe whispers in her mind._

_Rey reaches out, feels the throbbing heartbeat of each First Order ship, the central unit of each engine that powers all life systems. She finds these vital pieces. And she rips them apart._

_Thousands of men and women die in moments._

_“Rey!” Ben’s screaming at her. “Don’t go this way!” She throws him through the air._

_“This is all your fault!” She screams at him. She activates her lightsaber. “You coward!” Ben Solo had fled the First Order, but had failed to consider the Knights of Ren a proper threat. Urked Ren commanded the ships that killed Poe. Urked Ren, who Kylo had personally trained, and who Ben had failed to kill at their last battle._

_She rushes at her friend, her worst enemy, the man she could have loved, but who she now hates more than anything._

_The Force bends around their lightsabers, and Rey sees herself through Ben’s eyes as the Bond whispers to life for what promises to be the final time._

_She does not recognize herself. Her once-hazel eyes are now red, and her teeth are bared in rage. This Rey fights like an animal. Like a Sith._

_And this Rey will not hesitate in killing Ben Solo._

Rey falls to her knees on Yavin 4.

“Oh,” she sobs. “Oh.” She curls up under the tree, still feeling the press of the Dark against her.

 _It offered you something you needed,_ Luke accuses her in her memory. _And you didn’t even try to stop yourself._

Master Luke was right. She has no business being a Jedi.

She cries, clutching her stomach, nauseous from the vision. Rey desperately, desperately fears what the Force has shown her.

 _One must fall. One must die._ She can’t ignore the Force’s command, not anymore. If she ignores it in that forest, Poe will suffer for it. And then she will destroy the galaxy in his name.                                

**

Ben Solo wakes in Kylo Ren’s chambers. He sits up and pats his stomach, searching for a wound. He finds nothing.

Panting from adrenaline, he throws his legs off the bed, and puts his head between his knees in an attempt to get in control.

Rey had struck him down without second thought in this dream, destroyed by the loss of Poe. He thinks of her smiling face pressed against his in his previous vision, the one where she married him and moved past her grief, and he moved past his guilt.

There are two possibilities, it seems. Two possible futures for when the Force does not get what it so clearly wants in that clearing. Two futures with one hateful detail in common.

He stands, meaning to walk to the starviewer and reflect in meditation. He vomits instead.

**

When they say their goodbyes to Kes, Rey feels something cold and slimy threaten to lock into place over her heart.

“Take care of my kid,” Kes teases her. It feels like a death sentence.

“Despite his best efforts, I intend to make sure he gets through this in one piece.” Kes laughs. Rey doesn’t.

Her nightmare vision haunts her even now. While her statement is most likely accepted as buoyant, teasing, Rey hides her bitter fear and fights down the surge of screaming anxiety that actually inspired it. Kes doesn’t realize it, but this is a promise she intends to keep.

 _Please forgive me if I have to leave him,_ she wants to tell Kes. _Please be there for him, if I die so that he can live. If I die so all of you can live._

***

(On Spira)

Rey dashes the tears out of her eyes. She had come so close to telling Poe the truth yesterday. It burned at her throat while she spun him half-truths regarding what the Force had shown her. She couldn’t bare to let him know that her sudden acceptance of her possible death – the acceptance that ran counter to the life she had fought for, the survival she had earned through so many desperate measures – had everything to do with his life. _There’s no galaxy without you,_ he had told her. Poe didn’t realize how true that statement became when it was about him.

Rey would fall if he died, and she would make sure there was no galaxy without Poe Dameron in it.

Shivering, Rey crosses her legs underneath her, desperate for the temporary calm of meditation.

She seeks out that calm detachment she had found on Scarif. If she studies it now, her heart safe and still alive, sleeping in a cottage behind her, perhaps she won’t turn too far the other way when Poe is threatened. She can get in front of this power, and learn to control it.

The Force pulls through her, a tide more powerful than the sea before her. It washes through her, slipping through every molecule of her being, soothing the wounds of her soul. The Force calms her, even as she fights the urge to rage against it and its intentions for her life, for the life of the people she loves. She isn’t sure how long she breathes into the Force, and she feels her spirit reach out, searching for something or someone she doesn’t even have a name for.

Rey shifts and feels something slide into place behind her heart.

 _Your steps have led you here,_ a voice comments. Rey leans into the feeling behind it. She knows this voice. It spoke to her on Scarif.

It spoke to her on Takodana.

_Those were your first steps, yes. Do not fear where they lead you._

Rey opens her eyes, and all sound, all knowledge fades away.

There is only a man who stands before her.

He is terribly handsome, with a soft red beard and even softer eyes. He smiles widely at her, the deep-set lines around his young face suggesting that this is a common action for him.

“Hello, Rey,” he says. His accent sounds just like hers. “I think it’s time we talked.”

Rey looks at him, her entire focus centered on his Force Ghost. She stands, and leaves her body behind. They hover over the sea of Spira, her body trapped in a shell of water.

Rey knows his name. “Obi-Wan,” she says. “Your name was Obi-Wan.”

The answering smile he gives her is brilliant.

**

Poe’s tried meditating, swimming, sitting, pacing. Nothing cuts the anxiety ripping through him as he waits for Rey, who floats off the ground even now, eyes still closed, the light of the setting sun striking her lovely face. It’s only the fact that her face is much more relaxed than before that keeps him from screaming.

Okay, so he’s screamed a couple times. Nobody was around to hear it though, excepting BB-8 and BB-9E who fled from him at the sound, so he isn’t going to count it.

It’s been almost half a day, and Poe’s willing to try anything. _But am I really?_

“Fuck,” Poe curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He keeps up a spout of sand in his anger. “I cannot believe I’m doing this.”

 “Ben!” He shouts at the sky, desperately. “Ben, show your kriffing face!” He stands there like an idiot, the Force having clearly not passed along the message.

He’s just turning away, kicking at the sand again, when there’s a whisper behind his back. His focus narrows in and he spins around to see the man who wears his best friend’s face.

“You called?” Ben looks deeply unamused.

They don’t have time for pleasantries. “Rey’s meditating,” he informs Ben.

“That’s what Jedi do,” Ben quirks an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I thought you were aware.”

“No, you piece of shit – look!” He points over Ben’s shoulder. The other man turns, and curses.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, bantha brains,” Poe says, tension lining every muscle of his body. “What’s that about?”

Ben circles the dome of water and doesn’t respond. Poe needs answers. “She’s been in there for over six hours,” Poe drags a hand through his hair, exhausted, on edge. “What’s happening?”

“She’s communing with the Force,” Ben raises an eyebrow at him. “Intensely. She’s not really here, not anymore.” He looks up at Rey’s face while he stands in the surf before her. “Where did you go, sweet one?”

Poe tries not to retch. He called him here, after all.

“This is your fault,” Poe tells him.

“It usually is,” Ben shrugs without humor. “But why this time?”

“She thinks she can save you,” Poe comments, making his voice steady, like they’re just discussing the weather. The calm is forced, and they both know it. “She’s willing to die for it. Thinks the galaxy might require it. Her death that is. For balance, or whatever.”

Ben continues to examine Rey. “She might be right,” he mutters. “It’s what the visions have said since they started. The Force needs one of us to fall, one of us to die.” _Well, that’s just perfect_.

“Ben.” He finally turns away from the Jedi to look at Poe. “Is there a version of this where she lives?’

Ben looks tormented, and turns away from him. “Yes,” he whispers after a minute. “Yes, there is.”

“Have you seen it, too?”

Ben turns back, and when they lock eyes, Poe feels like he’s seeing his best friend for the first time in almost eight years. There is so much turmoil, in his eyes: turmoil, love, hope, and something else, something like guilt.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve seen multiple visions where she lives.”

“Well?” Poe can’t look away from him. He needs to know. “What happens, then?” He needs to know she can survive this.

“I can’t,” Ben shakes his head.

“Why? Because I couldn’t possibly understand? Fuck you.” Poe snarls at him, frustration pushing him to make demands of arguably the most powerful man in the galaxy. “Tell me, Ben.” The Supreme Leader rips his hand through his hair, and grits his teeth.

“You die,” Ben hisses. “You fucking die, and it either drags her down into the Dark, or she barely survives it. The Force needs to be balanced, and somehow, for some fucking reason, the _saving of my soul_ is going to require one or both of you in payment.” Poe feels numb, unmoored. “Are you fucking happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“What happens when she doesn’t fall?” Poe hates that he needs to ask. “The one where she survives.” The _barely_ in Ben’s admission goes unsaid, but hangs over his head nonetheless.

“She lives,” Ben whispers. “Maker, she lives. She and I rebuild the Jedi, and she comes to…” He doesn’t end the thought.

“And she comes to love you,” Poe finishes it for him. Fuck.

“She does,” Ben shrugs, and his eyes are quick to look away, suddenly filled with untapped emotion. “She loves me. But not as much as she loved you.” They stand in silence, the water pulling over Poe’s bare feet. The men stand, side by side, one feeling the waves against his skin, the other feeling only the memory of a happier time.

“Do I die every time?” Poe asks, out of curiosity and another burning compulsion he doesn’t want to name. “Do I have to die for her to live?” He’s beginning to understand what Rey said yesterday, about accepting the Force’s plan. He’s okay with dying, as long as she’s happy. But he still wants to know if this is it. If the Force has raised him – helped him since a child, given him a taste of happiness and the hope for a future so bright it’s dragged him through the last year as a willing captive – only to require him as sacrifice for the woman he loves. To hells with the galaxy. If he has to die for Rey, he will.

Ben’s taking time to answer while Poe reflects on his impending fate. Eventually, he says, “No.” It’s soft, simple. “I’ve seen a different future. Once. Briefly.”

“And what happens in that version?” Poe asks.

“It’s not for me to say,” Ben looks at him again, the spray of the water catching on the ends of his dark, wavy hair. “Anyway, I’m not sure how that version happens. The Force only showed me the ending, not the path to it.”

Kriffing hell.

“Does she…do _we_ get married?” Poe thinks back to a conversation they had as boys, when they were ten, when he explained his mother’s ring to Ben. He sounds just as naïve, if not more so, as he did then.

Ben shifts his awkwardly large feet and folds his arms across his chest. “If she hasn’t told you, I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her, or to you. Just. Know that it’s happy. I can’t say anymore, not without her permission.” Ben looks uncomfortable, which somehow, after all these years and all the shit between them, stirs something in Poe that makes him want to help Ben, to redirect some of the tension.

“How noble,” Poe snorts. “Good to know that instinct is still inside you.”

“It’s probably just the instinct to fuck with you,” Ben says. That bantha-shit-eating piece of garbage.

Poe shoves him and is a little surprised when he actually succeeds in knocking Ben forward into the water. The Supreme Leader lands with a _splash,_ onto his Supreme ass.

“You absolute _nerf herder_ ,” Ben shouts, slapping his hand across the surface of the ocean. The resulting wave catches Poe in the face, and he laughs, wiping the saltwater off his cheeks, spitting the brine out of his mouth.

“It’s on, jackass,” He says, leaning down to splash him back.

But Ben’s gone.

Poe’s alone on the beach, a lonely sentinel waiting for the woman he loves to come back to him.

**

“Where are we?” They’re no longer on Spira, that’s for sure. She’d almost guess Jakku, but the ground is too flat, dunes rising up far in the distance.

Obi-Wan looks around, briefly. “Tatooine,” he answers. “For a small desert planet, it’s awfully important. Walk with me.” He tilts his head towards the dunes and they begin to trek across the stretching plains of coarse sand.

“And why are you here, with me?” She asks. Chirrut had come to encourage her to be free in her love; Anakin had come with a warning and a lesson about loss.

Having witnessed that final vision, she isn’t so sure the warning stuck.

Obi-Wan says, “I’ve followed you closely since you were a child. The Force has great things planned for you. I regret not meeting you sooner, but you needed to see the galaxy through your own eyes, first.”

“But now?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Yes. _But now_. But now, you’ve seen what you fear the most, and it threatens to knock you off your course. So, here I am.” He spreads his arms wide. “Tell me, young Master Rey. What did you fear so much that it caused a large enough disturbance in the Force to catch the attention of this old man?” Rey looks at him in confusion, and she sees what he means. He’s thirty, young and handsome, at the same time he’s fifty, tired and broken. Obi-Wan lived a full life and died before his time. And he’s come all this way to hear her answer.

 “I saw the man I love die,” she admits, ashamed. “I saw him die in a vision, and then I lied to him about it. He died because I was trying to save another man, and it disrupted the Force’s plan for us all. He died in the struggle to maintain Its equilibrium.”

The older Jedi nods, expression unreadable. “I see. And what did you feel in this vision?”

“Rage,” Rey whispers. “Hatred. I was so angry. I would have done anything to bring him back. And I understood, then. I understood how Anakin fell. Darth Vader was born out of a desperation to save Anakin’s wife. I felt that in the vision, Obi-Wan. I would have done anything to avenge him. I killed thousands of people.” She chokes, suddenly on the verge of sobbing.

“You speak as if you’d actually done it,” the other Jedi comments. “Do not blame yourself for mistakes you have yet to make. The Force showed it to you so you would be prepared.” She takes a deep, shaking breath and asks a question.

“And what if I don’t want to prepare?” She sounds childish, or at least she thinks she does. She didn’t have much of a childhood, after all. “I don’t want him to die,” Rey says. “I can’t watch the man I love die. Surely you of all people can understand that.”

Obi-Wan pauses, and she stops as well. He smiles at her. For the first time, it looks like he doesn’t mean it. “You’ve clearly been talking to Anakin.” He doesn’t sound accusatory. Just tired.

“He told me you loved his wife.” Obi-Wan starts, but holds himself back from talking over her. “He said you would have left the Jedi for her, and she was the only thing that could have convinced you to walk away.”

 _Should I walk away for him?_ She wants to ask. She doesn’t.

“There was a time when Anakin Skywalker knew me better than anyone else,” Obi-Wan turns and continues walking. Rey follows him, close by his shoulder. “How regretful that he still did not know me.”

Obi-Wan turns his face towards the dual suns, breathing slowly through his nose. “Padme was precious to me, and I did love her very much. But she was not the first woman I loved.” He shakes his head, sadly. He looks at the ground before him, hands folded behind his back as they walk over the sand. “I loved another, years before Anakin fell. Her name was Satine, and I would have turned my back on everything for her, had she said the word. Had she asked, I would have left the Order, forsaken my vows, and lived my life with her.”

“Why didn’t she ask?” Rey’s deeply curious, now.

“Satine was an incredible woman,” Obi-Wan smiles again, fond and bittersweet. “She was a powerful political figure, and deeply committed to the improvement of the galaxy. Just like me. It was that passion that united us, and it was that dedication that separated us. Even though we were not together, in that way, I loved her more deeply than I thought possible.” He clenches his fists and squares his jaw. Rey trips – something she wouldn’t think possible as a spirit – as she tries to watch his face closely.

“What happened to her?”

“She died, Rey.” He exhales loudly. “She died in front of me. Padme was her friend as well, and we mourned her together. In the years that followed, I developed a deep respect for Padme and yes, eventually a love.”

“I loved Satine. And then I loved Padme. Twice a woman I loved died before me. Twice I failed the women I loved. I would have left my training for Satine. I would have left the order for Padme. I offered to marry her, in her final hours. I offered to take her away from all of it, to become a husband and a father to her children, to ease her burden. But she was already in labor, and she had already given up. Her heart was broken, and what I had left to offer her…it wasn’t enough.” Rey’s heart breaks, all over again, for the trio of friends set in the past, whose agonized entanglement echoes well into the future.

“So, Anakin wasn’t entirely right. Part of that is because I hid the truth from him, just as he hid the truth from me. Listen to me when I tell you this: if you hide the truth, even painful truths, from your loved ones, no good will come from it.”

Rey nods, understanding him well. “I’m not protecting him by lying to him,” she says.

“No, Rey. That isn’t love. And it will only end in disaster.”

She grabs his shoulder and is surprised when she can actually make contact with him. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

“You’re quite welcome,” his old smile is back. “You remind me a lot of myself, young one. Impulsive, foolhardy, and desperate to protect those that you love. I only wish I could have trained you.”

Rey agrees. She feels a strange communion with this man. “I wish that as well.” The only sound is the wind over the sand, stirring new patterns by the second into the landscape. She has another question, and she waits to ask it, until she can no longer wait.

“Master Kenobi,” she says. He laughs, loud and clear at the title.

“Yes, Padawan?”

“What will I do about Ben?” She sounds sad. “I love him. Not in the way he wants me to, but I love him. I cannot kill him.”

 _You were my brother, Anakin,_ the strangled voice of man next to her ripples through the desert air. Obi-Wan flinches at it.

“You might have to,” he says. “If he does not choose a different path, you might have to kill him.”

“And I might have to die.”

“All people die, Rey,” he says. “But that does not mean you should give into it. It does not mean you should blindly accept it. Fight for your future. Try to survive. The Force will not begrudge you for trying to live. In fact, I’d say It rather favors you.”

Rey doesn’t quite believe that, but she feels comforted by the guidance all the same. “Master Kenobi, what will I do when I face Ben in our final battle?”

“You will fight him, and if possible, you will fight for him.” They carry on in silence, the dry air hitting her skin with all the familiarity of her youth.

“I was impressed with your new Code,” Obi-Wan says to her eventually after they finally arrive at the dunes of Tatooine.

“You were listening to that?” She asks, embarrassed. Rey vividly remembers how she found the ending to it, writhing under Poe’s attentive hands.

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan says. When she looks over, his ears are as red as his beard. “I chose to just listen, not watch. There are some things that should remain private.”

Rey snorts in mortified laughter. She’ll have to keep that in mind if she becomes a Force Ghost one day.

“Remember your Code,” the Jedi tells her. “There can be peace within emotion, if the Force wills it. I can find knowledge in ignorance. There can be serenity in passion, if the Force wills it. I can find harmony in chaos.” He smiles, not saying the last lines. Rey hopes he isn’t still dwelling on her method of overcoming writer’s block. “When all else seems lost, Rey, remember why you wrote the Code.”

“I wanted balance,” she says.

“Exactly,” Obi-Wan beams and takes her by the elbow. “This is all about balance, young one. Just let go, breathe, reach for that balance, and the Force will guide you the right way.”

They’re back on Spira, where her body sits in a globe of swirling water.

Poe Dameron sits on the edge of it, staring up at her in supplication.

 _Come back to me,_ she hears him through the Bond. _Come back, Rey._ She can see the shining golden web that stems from him throughout the Force. He is resplendent, and he is hers.

“Obi-Wan.” The ghost turns to look at her. “What if I’m not strong enough for this? All this talk of balance, of payment, of equal exchange. I love him. I can’t choose between Poe and the galaxy. I just can’t.”

“Rey. After all you’ve learned, all you’ve been shown. Why are you so convinced that there’s a difference?”

Rey gasps for breath, rushing back into her body. The water dumps to the ground around her, and she slams into the sand, coughing.

“Rey!” Poe scrambles upright and over to her side. “Sweetheart.”

She’s still coughing, feeling the sudden understanding coursing in her veins.

“Poe,” she gasps. “Poe, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Sunshine. You’re here now, it’s okay.” He scoops her into his arms and holds her. His heart is slamming in his chest to the point she can see it against his skin.

“No, Poe,” she whispers. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Her pilot tightens his grip on her. “It’s okay,” he says. “I understand a little better now.”

“Really?” She asks. “Because I do too.” She shifts, trying to indicate to him that she wants to stand. Her muscles are screaming in protest, as she’s apparently spent multiple hours meditating off the ground, and she needs to get upright.

He helps her to her feet, and strokes a hand down her cheek before she says anything else.

“Poe, I was wrong. I was so wrong not to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I had a vision,” Rey swallows. “Back on Yavin. You died, Poe, and it broke me. You died because I wasn’t willing to die or to kill Ben in that forest. You died instead of us, and I turned to the Dark.” He’s still stroking his hands along her face, her neck, her shoulder.

“Rey,” he begins.

She shakes her head. “Darling, I should have told you. I was so afraid. I don’t want to hide things from you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” _I didn’t mean to hurt you._

 _I forgave you_ he tells her, pulling her forward and tilting her chin. _I forgave you immediately._ _You’re worth every second of any pain. I love you. That’s enough._ Poe kisses her, and her body comes alive. She’s aware of the spray of water on her skin, aware of his heartbeat close to hers, aware of the Force narrowing down into this one, golden moment with a Jedi and a pilot.

She feels both detached and incredibly centered by the intensity of his mouth on hers. And she knows she wants galaxies more than "enough" with this man.

"I love you so much,” Rey says after the kiss ends. She steps closer to him and tucks her face into his neck. “I love you, and I promise I will do everything in my power to come back to you.”

His hands tighten around her waist as if trying to eliminate any space between them. “Don’t just say that, Sunshine,” he sounds gutted. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”

 _I do mean it._ “I’m going to try,” she promises him aloud, the truth of it echoing in the Bond. “I’m going to try to get through this, for you. For us. I want a future with you.”

“I do too, Sunshine,” Poe says, pulling away so he can look at her properly. He’s half-solemn and half-joyful. He takes a step back from her.

Poe gets down on one knee in the surf.

“Does your leg hurt?” She asks, confused.

Poe laughs, looking at her like she’s the cleverest thing that’s ever lived. “No, no sweetheart.” He smiles at her, and it’s achingly sweet. “I want to ask you something.” She doesn’t understand why he has to kneel to talk to her, and she waits for him to keep going. He takes a deep breath as if preparing himself.

“My timing’s probably all wrong, but fuck it, we’re at war, and I need to know.” Poe swallows and looks up at her, taking her hand. Rey senses a large shift headed their way.

 _Breathe,_ a wise person had told her just minutes ago.

She takes a deep breath, and waits for Poe to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Don't hate me for the cliffhanger~
> 
> The original ending for this chapter was Beebee interrupting them with an important message from Leia and then they had to return to the base and he never got to ask his question//I had a massive time jump planned months into the future.  
> But then I decided nah.  
> He'll ask his question, sooner rather than later.
> 
> I hope Rey's actions of the last chapter make more sense, now! Also, I was excited that she finally got to meet Obi. 
> 
> The #reycation is coming to an end though, and after the smutty joy of the beginning of the next chapter, there will be a return to the "war" part of star wars.


	35. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe asks, Rey answers.  
> They return to reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> Smut smut smut after Rey gives Poe her answer. 
> 
>  
> 
> Much larger warning: end of the chapter returns to angst, and tw for discussion of infertility (it takes place after they return to base in Poe's POV if you want to skip it)

_Breathe._

Rey’s staring down at him, completely bewildered by his stance. The grit of the sand digs into his knee and the sting of a cut not quite healed on his ankle burns from the saltwater.

He doesn’t care.

The only real thing in the galaxy is standing in front of him. “Rey,” he says, stroking his thumb over her knuckles.

“Poe,” she laughs, nervously. “You’re starting to worry me.” She moves to kneel down, too, and his other hand shoots up to grab her hip and steady her, to keep her upright.

“No, no,” He’s laughing too, if only to keep himself from crying. “No, you have to be up there for this.”

“For what?” Poe forgets all the time how innocent she is. How little society she experienced before landing square in the middle of one of the largest intergalactic wars to date, suddenly the focal point of a conflict she didn’t know the history of until a few months ago. Poe curses himself, briefly, curses himself for being an old man who assumes so much, curses himself for how greedy he is to want to keep her to himself.

It’s only briefly, though.

“Rey,” he swallows. “ _Diosa._ You’re my galaxy. I can’t live without you.”

“It’s the same for me, Poe,” she tells him earnestly. “And I’m so sorry for yesterday. Really, I'm sorry. I’m not going down without a fight. You’re worth the fight.”

“That’s – that means a lot to me, Sunshine. But I wasn’t talking about that.”

Rey scrunches her nose. “You’re not?” She pokes at his bended knee with her foot. “Are you alright?”

“Kriff.” Poe needs to get this back on track. “I’m doing everything all wrong.” He pulls his necklace off, and weighs the ring in his hand. The significance hits him, then. If this goes well, he’ll never wear this again. Rey will wear it. She’ll have a piece of him – she has every piece of him, truly – forever if she accepts him. “Do you remember what I told you about this ring?”

She nods her head, still caught off-guard but cheeks pink with dawning understanding and something he prays is hopeful anticipation. “It was your mother’s,” she says. “Shara Bey.”

“Yeah, Sunshine,” he runs his thumb around the metal circle, an old nervous habit. Poe forces himself to look at her and feels the wind get knocked out of him. She’s backlit by the setting sun, the dying beams catching the hidden reds of her hair. She is incandescent, celestial. One word from her can end his life or bring him ultimate happiness. _You’re everything._

Rey shakes her head, still smiling. “ _You_ are,” she insists. “You’re everything, to me.”

He clears his throat and remembers what he wanted to say next. “My parents were a love story for the ages. They were crazy about each other – they were both lifelong soldiers, dedicated to the Rebellion, but they left it all behind to be with each other, to start a life with each other. My mother and my father loved each other very much, and when she died, Kes let me keep this because he said someone wonderful should have it. He said I should keep it until I found the person I loved more than anything in the whole galaxy because it was worth nothing less than that. So I told myself I would wear it every day, next to my heart, until I found the person it should belong to.” Rey’s cheeks are flaming red now, and opens her mouth to speak, but Poe shakes his head. “I told myself I would wait and give it to the person who was for me what Shara was for Kes. And sweetheart, that’s you.”

Rey begins to cry, the tears mixing with the ocean water as the waves continue to rush past them, in and out, just to come back again, a constant reflection of the natural balance the galaxy desires above all things.

 “ _Sunshine_ is the first thought I had when I saw you on Crait. There isn’t a better word for you. You’ve brought so much light to my life over the last year. I was lost before you; I had lost sight of why I was fighting, who I was. I think about you saving us on Crait, and it makes me laugh because I had no idea just how many times, how many ways you would keep saving me. When we lost you,” he swallows, the memory a dagger to his heart even now, after weeks of having her close by, “When I lost you, when I didn’t know where you were, what they were doing to you,” his voice cracks, “I was lost. I never want to feel that way again. I can’t bear to be parted from you. I want to show you the galaxy. I want to see everything, do everything, with you.”

“This is yours, if you want it.” He holds the ring out to her. “Will you be my partner, my stars, my galaxy, for as long as the Force wills it? Rey, will you marry me?” _Please._ The word isn’t an afterthought. It’s a prayer.

She falls to her knees in the surf before him and takes both his hands in hers. “Poe,” she says earnestly, and he laughs because after a year he hasn’t found a single sound prettier than her voice saying his name, “I love you. I never had a family, I never had anything, and now I have so much. It’s too much, sometimes, to have all of this, so suddenly, but – I want it. I want it so badly it hurts.”

“Is that a yes?” He licks his bottom lip, trying to hold back his anxiety, the hope in his chest almost too much to bear as it burns every other thing away until all that’s left is _her_.

“Yes,” Rey laughs. “Yes, you ridiculous, impossible man.” _I’ll marry you._ She leans in and kisses him. Poe’s a fool for thinking he’d ever felt happiness before. This, this unbearable lightness, this radiating thrill coursing through him from her lips on his, from her sweet, stunning answer: this is happiness, and it’s all he ever wants to feel again.

“Shit,” he curses the second they part. “Gods, I’m so bad at this. Here,” he takes her smaller, colder hand in his, and slips the ring onto her fourth finger. It slides down easily, and it sits so prettily against her skin that he starts crying. “Sorry,” he sniffs, “Sorry I’m such a fucking mess.” He wipes his eyes, trying to avoid rubbing ocean water into them and failing miserably. 

 _I’m marrying a giant mess,_ Rey thinks amusedly at him. _I’m going to have a giant fucking mess for a husband._

Despite the cool water lapping against his body, the salt burning his eyes, and the incredibly inconvenient sand everywhere around them, Poe is suddenly, ridiculously aroused.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

“Say what again?” Rey teases.

“You know what,” Poe practically growls it. “Please?”

“My husband,” Rey says, without a hint of teasing in her voice now. “You’re going to be my husband. And – and I’m going to be your wife.”

Poe definitely growls this time as he surges forward, knocks her backwards and presses his mouth to hers. He ignores the incoming rush of water that flows underneath Rey, running over their clothes and probably ruining them.

He can’t think about anything other than what she just called him, what she just called herself.

 _My wife,_ he’s dizzy with it. _You’re going to be my wife._

_**_

Rey’s fully distracted from her earlier fears. As Poe tries to kiss the life out of her, she thinks back to the first time she really spoke to him: a year and a lifetime ago, in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon, when they were just two strangers with insomnia, running from newly-formed ghosts that threatened to destroy everything.

They’re still running from those ghosts, and new ones, to be fair. But she feels better knowing that they’ll be running together. She doesn’t know what the Force has in store for her. She could be dead at the end of all this, or so broken by grief and despair that she’s entirely unrecognizable. For right now though, she can just live. She can be just a girl who wants to marry a wonderful, sweet man.

Rey wrinkles her nose as she feels the sand start to clump in her hair. It’s lovely to kiss Poe and know that he wants to kiss her thoroughly no matter how inconvenient a location it is, but at this rate it’s going to take eons to clean off.

Sensing her discomfort, Poe rolls them effortlessly so he’s the one lying on the sand. “I love you,” he says, raising a hand to push her sodden hair out of her face.

“I love you too,” she laughs, ducking down to kiss her fiancée _._ She decides that she likes the word.

Poe bears her weight graciously, and when he rolls her hips up into hers, she gasps his name.

 _Prettiest sound I ever heard,_ he tells her. Rey grinds down on him in response.

“Can we –” he pulls her down for a kiss, his body heat leaking through their thin layers. “Can we take this inside?” His voice sounds like gravel from his arousal. Rey feels her entire body react to it.

Rey jumps up and tugs him to his feet, using the Force to get him up faster. “Cheater,” he laughs. She pulls him by the hand up the shore, towards the cottage. Poe runs at her side; they’re hand in hand as they stumble up the front step, and he spins her once in exaltation when they get to the door.

She isn’t sure which of them thought to kick the door shut behind them, but as she bounces onto the bed after pulling her tunic over her head while Poe sheds his clothes, she’s glad for every ounce of privacy they have here on Spira.

Poe’s naked quickly, and he stands before her as if waiting for inspection. She finds him wanting for nothing. Rey crooks her finger at him.

“Well?” She says, biting her lip in what she hopes is a seductive way. “Didn’t you want to show me the galaxy?”

He laughs, short and loud. “Yes, ma’am.” She smiles up at him and lets her legs fall open under his gaze. Poe stops laughing and kneels at the foot of the bed.

“I’m going to spend my entire life trying to deserve this,” he murmurs, an inferno burning in his eyes. Rey reaches out to cup his jaw, admiring the way the ring flashes on her hand.

The appreciation must echo through the Bond because Poe hums in satisfaction and then pulls her by the hips to the edge of the bed.

“Let’s just start here,” he whispers, beginning to kiss the inside of her thigh. “Just you and me, and forget the rest of the galaxy for right now. We can just be Poe and Rey, and nothing else will matter.”

Rey likes the sound of that.

***

They touch each other almost constantly for the next hours, sometimes pausing to doze or eat. A brief trip to the 'fresher cleans the sand from their bodies, and then they return to bed. Anything they do seems to lead to another round of vigorous exploration.

Once, Poe feeds Rey chunks of fruit, and when she licks the juice from his fingertips, his eyes darken. She can’t help but be inspired to see how he responds to her removing juice from other parts of his body, and when they run out of fruit, she decides she prefers the taste of just him, anyway. His muscles jump under her curious tongue and eventually he comes so hard he cries.

He happily returns the favor ten minutes later once he regains control of his muscles. Rey worries distantly that she’s hurting his head by squeezing it too hard with her thighs, but his non-verbal command of _don’t you dare fucking stop_ is encouraging.

Before they fall asleep, an hour before dawn, she sits astride him and rides him so slowly she thinks his thumbs might leave permanent imprints on her hips from where he tried to stop himself from thrusting up.

He eventually drags a hand from her navel to her sternum, leaving it between her breasts, clearly feeling her heartbeat under his palm.

 _I love you._ It’s unclear who said it, the peaceful throb of the Bond open and undiscerning.

Rey covers his hand with her left, and it’s the sight of the ring on her finger that pushes him over the edge, finally. She leans down to kiss him through it before she joins him, the echoing pleasure helping pull her over as well.

When they wake, it’s time to leave. It’s time to return to base.

They have a war to win, after all.

**

***

Rose notices first, of course.

After the _Sunshine_ docks in the hangar bay, Poe jumps out first and offers his hand to Rey. She’d slept the entire way back, and he worries that his incessant need to be near her the previous night wore her down too much. Their vacation was meant to help her recover, after all, and while she’s gained a few pounds back, he knows she’s still more fragile than she was a month and a half ago, before _Sidious._

Rey smiles at him, though, and accepts his hand as he helps her down from the ship. Finn, Rose, and Leia have come to welcome them back and Finn walks forward first for a hug, sweeping Rey up into his arms. She laughs, and they clap each other on the back. Poe’s busy admiring how cute her nose looks pointed up in the air as she grins into the hug, when Rose screams,

“I knew it!” She’s pointing at Rey’s left hand. “I fucking knew it! You owe me, Finn!” Rey breaks from the hug looking over at Poe guiltily. They hadn’t decided on how to tell everyone, but it seems Rose will do that for them.

“When did this happen?” Leia comes to take Rey’s hand and admires the ring. “And how in the hells did he convince you to say yes?”

“It was an easy choice,” Rey smiles, shrugging. Her ears are tinged pink, but as far as Poe can tell, it’s a happy response and not an embarrassed one. Good. She doesn’t regret it, yet. He walks forward when Leia opens her arms, clearly waiting for a hug.

His path is blocked by a suspicious ex-stormtrooper. “Yeah, man,” Finn says with narrowed eyes. “How did you convince her? And does the Wookie know?”

Poe swallows and looks around for Chewbacca. The last thing he needs is to be caught off-guard by a giant Wookie with a bowcaster in addition the oncoming interrogation by his intended’s best friend.

Beebee rolls forward, chirping helpfully [Master-Poe asked Mistress-Rey to be his spouse on Spira!]

Niney is close behind. [I informed the Jedi Commander that it was an unwise choice, but she believed otherwise.]

Well, at least one droid supports him. He laughs, feeling the bubble of happiness that’s been growing since yesterday expand in his chest. Rey’s laughing and talking with Rose and Leia, obviously recounting the story of how he’d proposed.

Finn’s still looking back and forth between them, clearly distrustful. His eyes narrow in on Rey’s midriff, and Poe’s happy bubble is severely threatened. Finn starts forward with his finger pointed, and Poe grabs his wrist, much harder than either one expected.

“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare even ask her that.”

Rey’s so happy, and Poe doesn’t want that to be spoiled by questions about her fertility.

No, Finn can’t ask her that.

His friend nods, and meets his eyes guiltily. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“It’s okay,” Poe asks. “Trust me, I can’t believe that she said yes either. Just please. Don’t ask her that.” Finn nods in understanding, his sincere apology evident in his face.

It’s gone largely unspoken between all of them. Rey hasn’t spoken to him about it, and he hasn’t brought it up, terrified of upsetting her. Poe smiles at Finn, tightly, and then walks forward to join Rey as Rose and Leia hound her with questions. He takes his place by her side, where he belongs, and slips his hand into hers.

While Rey beams, radiant in joy as she explains how he’d knelt in the water, Poe tries not to think about how happy she was on Nakadia surrounded by the group of small, adoring children. He tries not to think of the longing that ripped through him, unexpectedly, seeing her with them. He tries not to think about the troubling diagnosis offered by the doctors when she was recovering in the Med Bay.

Poe doesn’t think about it, hasn’t thought about it, because he can’t. He can’t think about how she may never have children after what Hux did to her.

***

They get their new orders from a regretful Leia a week later.

The Resistance is moving forward into more aggressive tactics. A year of rebuilding has allowed them to grow their fleet and amass a much larger military force.

Rey’s being called to diplomatic missions throughout the Mid- and Outer-Rim planets. Her natural charm and status as the last Jedi makes her the perfect candidate to win over governments and politicians still on the fence about helping the Resistance.

Poe’s being sent to help command a battleship, _The Alderaan,_ which will work as a hub for X-Wings and other starfighters in locations further out from base than could be covered by short-range missions. He knows he’ll be up for Vice-Admiral before long, and he understands that as the Resistance pilot with the most experience, he’s the best choice to help the novices succeed in the distant theater of the war.

Their orders will separate them for at least two months.

The night before they deploy, they hold each other in Poe’s bunk, where everything had started. They don’t make love, and they don’t say much. Poe looks down at their joined hands and runs his thumb over her ring, over and over again, whispering _come back to me_ so often, he’s worried the phrase has lost all meaning to her. She promises him she will though, she promises him _always,_ every time he asks. And it’s everything.  

They hold each other and wait for dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half fluff, half smut, half angst (three halves of what I usually put them through). 
> 
>  
> 
> (Fucking Hux, hurting people even after his death)
> 
> (I don't write the fertility plot point lightly-it was always the plan, and I have a lot of feelings about it from personal experience).


	36. On A Diplomatic Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey does not like diplomacy; Ben enjoys the fleeting moments he shares with Rey; Rey receives some bad news; Ben also gets bad news, and Kylo Ren makes a sudden, uncontrollable return; Poe has a very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: extended mention of infertility. 
> 
> Big warning: Kylo Ren is a violent, bad man (and will crush what's left of Ben Solo if he can).  
> Creepy, possessive, violent behavior after he gets his bad news. (He force chokes both Poe and Rey)

(Five Weeks Later)

More so than any world she’s been to so far on this mission, Rey does not like Eriadu.

She really doesn’t like the Chancellor of Eriadu, who smiles at her like she’s something to eat when she walks up to the Grand Citadel. Finn, who had volunteered to be by her side for every minute of this uncomfortable, two-month mission, is still up on the starship waiting in atmo. As a lowly Army-man, he was not invited to tonight’s proceedings.

Rey’s wearing a dress tailor-made for the occasion, and she’s wishing for the anonymity of the robes she’d stolen from Ahch-To. Leia had insisted Rey wear a dress for formal occasions, so here she is, paraded in front of leering old men, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer she stands in front of them.

In a way, she understands why Leia prefers gowns to uniforms when dealing with men. She understands that it throws them off and makes them more likely to underestimate her, to let their guard down. Rey knows that the dress she wears, which hugs her frame and gives her the illusion of curves, will help the Resistance get the weapons it needs from this powerful, resource-rich planet.

So she grits her teeth and prays her bared teeth will not betray her desire to plunge her lightsaber into the middle of the table and scare the diplomats shitless, her desire to set fire to the blood-red tapestries that rise behind Chancellor Trextin, her desire to rip the bottom half of the gown – the one that constantly threatens to trip her while she stumbles in these ridiculous heels – clean off and jump from the nearest window, rappelling to freedom.

When Rey smiles at the Chancellor, she does not mean it. She takes his hand and giggles coquettishly, the way Leia trained her, when he asks her to dance. She hides her exhaustion and disgust when he holds her closely, a mockery of Poe’s embrace.

Rey is here for the Resistance, a fact she constantly reminds herself. The sooner they get the agreement of Eriadu to support their cause, the sooner she can get the fuck off this planet, so she can go to the next planet, and the next, until she finds her way back across the stars to her love.

These last weeks have been long, and she misses her pilot.

They have made brief contact, daily, during the normal Standard-hour they had established for meditation over a year ago. It’s the only time of day she feels any peace. Sometimes she swears she can feel his hands on hers as they mirror each other’s breath, hundreds of thousands away from each other.

Besides those brief, stolen moments, she often closes their Bond so he can’t feel the staggering loneliness that cuts through her every other second of the day. She leans on Finn, who grows ever more dear to her heart, a brother who she loves so strongly it helps carry her through these weeks with some modicum of grace.

And she has another, more unlikely ally in all of this.

Ben Solo seems to have gained a knack for appearing at the most mundane, brutally boring political moments Rey’s forced into. He pulls faces at ambassadors, sits cross-legged on banquet tables while making increasingly lewd jokes in Huttese, and walks like a great, predatory bird on the heels of unsuspecting world leaders, flapping his cloak behind him in a purposefully dramatic way.

He usually draws a laugh out of her at inopportune times, which she hides behind her hand.

If Ben’s noticed the ring, he hasn’t said anything. She isn’t trying to hide it from him, not really. Rey hasn’t worn it on her finger for weeks – she hadn’t been aware she’d lost weight until the ring threatened to fall off her bony finger. Now she wears it on a necklace, close to her heart, much like Poe had.

While the visions of the forest continue to haunt her sleep, she’s glad for Ben. She just wishes he wasn’t making it so hard for her to prepare to face him in battle. It’s growing more unlikely every day that she’ll be able to kill him.

Ben Solo is her friend, she thinks. She can’t turn her back on him now.

**

Rey is too remarkable a creature to be paraded around as _bait._ After he realizes what exactly her role is on this mission, Ben decides that he has never disliked his mother more. Rey deserves to have men fall at her feet  -- she doesn’t deserve painful, awkward ceremonies where she forces herself to smile prettily and tries to gain the favor of wealthy and powerful people who wouldn't deserve her heeled boot on their necks.

 _I’d give you the galaxy,_ he wants to tell her. _I’d do anything for you, give you anything. If you agreed to be mine, my Empress, I’d end this entire war. I’d burn it all down, for you. You wouldn’t have to ask me twice for anything._

The first time he appeared to Rey while she was on her ridiculous assignment, his breath had caught in his chest.

It had been almost three weeks since he’d seen her meditate on the forlorn beach, Poe as her constant guard.

But Poe’s not here, now. He examines Rey’s feelings in the Bond and recognizes heartbreak and loss easily when he finds it, familiar as they are to him.

He tells himself that he has to be wrong, but looking at her face, more wan than ever, circles growing under her eyes, he thinks _maybe._

When he looks for the pilot that evening, he finds his Force signature, golden and equally heartbroken, thousands of miles away. Ben tries not to gloat, tries not to feel celebratory in their separation. Rey may have finally come to terms with the fact that a goddess has no need to stoop so low. Kylo Ren whispers to him that _she could be Empress, now,_ and Ben lends an ear to the suggestion, entertaining it more than he has for months. Rey could still be his the way he wishes, and Poe need not even die for it.

The first time he connects with her on her mission, he gets her attention over the ceremonial fire on Akira. When he blows his cheeks out to look like the ridiculously puffed-up host of the party, Rey snorts, her lovely eyes finally lighting up, and he laughs with her, ignoring the pull on his underused abdominal muscles.

Watching her finally animated face, Ben has never been prouder of himself.

During the disastrous Eriadu stop, he examines her revulsion with the Chancellor, and delights in the fact that she doesn’t ever project the same distaste when he hovers near her shoulder, or rolls pastries at her using the Force across the dinner table (much to the surprise and shock of the other, esteemed guests). He throws his head back and _laughs_ when he hears her disgruntled desire to jump out the nearest window in the Grand Citadel, when he sees her barely controlled savage instincts kicking in.

They tried to make a scavenger into a pawn, a polished diplomat, forgetting that it was her wildness that made her so perfect to begin with.

**

Rey finds herself in the Med Bay of their assigned ship, almost a month after she’s deployed.

The kind, older doctor pulls up her medical record and asks, “What brings you in today, Commander?”

“I think I might be pregnant,” Rey explains, twisting her fingers together anxiously.

 The doctor smiles at her, examining the holopad with her medical history on it. Something closes off in his eyes, and Rey feels strangely defensive.

“I missed my courses,” she explains without shyness. “My last one was almost eight weeks ago.”

“And when was the last time you had intercourse?” he says, the warm, slightly-off smile still in place.

“Seven weeks ago. And it was fairly regular before then.” If the doctor’s surprised by her candor, he doesn’t show it.

Instead he just nods. “Alright, Commander. We’ll run a test, just to make sure. But looking at your medical history,” he sighs and finally the smile slips. “Rey, it’s highly unlikely that you’re pregnant.”

“Just check.” She snaps. The “please” is an afterthought.

The medical droid comes up to take her blood, beeping [Just a small prick of the finger, Commander]. Rey breathes through her nose, trying not to let the tacky-cold panic override her ration. She knows she’s not onboard _The Sidious._ This friendly, cheerful medical droid looks nothing like the First Order’ interrogation robot, but she can’t convince her mind that.

“Actually, PA-3, I can do that.” The doctor pats the droid on the head and scoots it out of the way with his foot.

Rey looks up at the man, feeling her heart pound in her chest even as the droid rolls away. The doctor shuffles through a door until he finds what he’s looking for—a small needle and a hormonal reader.

“A little archaic, but it will do.” He turns to her, and eyes her involuntary tremors. “Would you like to do it? The droid’s right, it’s just a prick of the finger, and then we put the blood on this scanner.”

Rey takes the needle wordlessly and jams it into her finger without hesitation. She hands the sample back to the doctor who inserts it into the scanner.

While they wait for the reading, Rey kicks her feet back and forth anxiously. “Thank you,” she whispers after a few seconds.

The doctor doesn’t look up from the reader when he speaks again. “I have a daughter who’s almost your age,” he comments.

“Really?” Rey smiles, finally. “What’s her name?”

“Akira,” he returns her smile and holds her gaze. “And we both think you’re an incredibly brave young woman, to survive what you went through and still carry on fighting like you are.” Rey’s throat tightens and she nods, unsure of what to say in response. She honestly hates that seemingly half the galaxy saw her scream in agony on Hux’s table and witnessed the beginning of an awful journey that’s left her constantly in pain, constantly fighting for a sense of normalcy, of balance.

And here she is sitting on an examination table, dealing with yet another side effect of the torture, waiting to see just how deeply the damage goes. 

The scanner beeps, and the doctor examines it. She feels his discomfort in the Force.

“You don’t have to say it,” she whispers. She knows. She should have known.

Sometimes she thinks hope is the most dangerous thing in the galaxy.

“Commander,” the older man clears his throat. She’d never gotten his name, and here he is, giving her this important, hurtful news. “When was the last time you had a full meal?”

Rey looks down at her hands. “Seven weeks ago.” She still has trouble eating, and after the last meal she and Poe shared together, food’s started to feel more and more like gritty sand in her mouth. The ring still won’t stay on her finger, and she ties her tunic tighter every day. She spits out more bites of food than she cares to count.

“Your courses have probably stopped because your weight is too low,” the doctor informs her, gently. “If you want, I can give you a nutrient patch. It’s something the New Republic was testing out before the fall of the Hosnian system; it was meant to reduce starvation in impoverished Outer Rim planets.” Rey nods, and accepts the sheet of small, transparent patches he hands her. “Two a day, ten hours apart,” he instructs her. “And Rey, it’s only a temporary fix to get your body weight back up. You’ll need another physical in a month, at which point we can discuss different therapy options for you.”

Therapy. Rey knows the word. Poe had attended “therapy” back on base with Dr. Kalonia. He seemed to begrudgingly respect the woman, but he’d always come back exhausted from the sessions, almost non-verbal in his tiredness.

“And if you want, I can sit down with you and your partner to talk about the finer details of your condition. Explain to him what’s going on. Like I said, it is highly unlikely you’ll conceive naturally, but there are other options.”

Rey blinks, still terribly numb. “No, doctor,” she says, trying to sound like she’s capable of feeling anything at all. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.” He doesn’t know where she is, how she’s feeling, what they’ve lost. She put a tight lock on the Bond before she walked in here, wanting to hold off on sharing her theory with him until she had concrete evidence of something. And now she has nothing.  

She thanks the medical officer again, and then leaves the Med Bay. In the hallway, BB-9E rolls up to her, having clearly waited outside the door for her. She kneels down and pets its head, still feeling strangely empty.

Rey walks to her room, Niney at her heels. She’s totally lost in thought, fumbling with the access panel, when she realizes Finn is at her shoulder.

“Hey, little Jedi,” he laughs. “I wondered where you’d run off to.” He looks at her then, really looks at her. “Rey?” He sounds worried now, and Rey feels like she’s seeing him through a long tunnel that’s slowly collapsing, dragging her down somewhere inside herself where she’s still a lost child in an AT-AT, terribly, permanently alone.

“Rey?” He puts a hand on her shoulder, and Rey bursts into tears. “Oh, fuck me.” Finn somehow gets the door open, and, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he manages to get them both inside.

He guides her to the bed. “Do you,” he coughs awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?” Rey shakes her head, speechless in her fathomless grief.

“Okay,” he nods. If she were more coherent, she’d smile at the almost-literal gears whirring in his tactical brain while he searches for a proper solution to this situation he’s been handed. “Okay. I’m going to lie down on the bed, and then you will too. And I’m going to hold you, if you want.” He nods, and sits on the bed. “Yeah, that’s what we’re going to do, okay? And then we’ll figure the rest out later.”

He stretches out and props his head on one hand. His other arm raises, leaving his torso wide open and available to her. Rey shakes as she walks over to the bed, and she lies down next to him, facing the door. Finn pulls her close to his body and lets her cry without interruption for minutes.

Once she’s calmed down slightly, she takes a shuddering breath and whispers, “I’ll never be a mother.” And then she’s sobbing again, almost wailing.

“Oh, Force,” Finn mutters. “Hey, hey there, hey.”

Finn curls his body around her protectively. It’s different than it is with Poe, and she misses him, even as she thanks the Force that it’s Finn and not Poe with her. She thanks the Force that it’s Finn who hears her sob, hears her gasp into her palm when she presses her hand against her mouth trying to muffle the sound. She’s glad it’s Finn behind her, her back shuddering against his chest while he makes soothing noises, his arm tight around her middle. Even as her soul begs for her pilot, she’s unbelievably grateful that Poe can’t see her like this, while she cries over his child, the one she so desperately wants, the one from the vision the Force cruelly dangled in front of her on Yavin 4.

She doesn’t want him to know that she’s crying over a child that never existed and probably never will.

**

Ben thanks every living thing in the Force one night, more than a month since the last time he’d felt Rey and the pilot together. He thanks the Force fervently for the first time in what feels like decades when Rey throws her head back and laughs, wholeheartedly, at a terribly puerile joke he’d made at the expense of a Stormtrooper, Grand Moff Tarkin, and a Hutt who happened to walk into a cantina at the same time.

His father had taught the joke to him, and he tries not to let that ghost hurt him while he sits next to the brightest star in the sky.

He’s drunk off her laugh – he remembers how it feels, how it felt to lose his control like that, sacrifice it to his base instinct at the mercy of Corellian whisky – when he does something probably very stupid.

Ben reaches down and touches her knee, softly, out of a simple, human impulse that he was sure he’d killed a long time ago. She doesn’t immediately shy away, but her laugh does die down.

When he looks at her, he feels his heart seize in his chest.

“Ben,” she whispers, looking very unsure of something. _Don’t be unsure of me,_ he wants to tell her. _I’ve never been more sure of anything._

“Rey,” his voice is husky, in a way it never has been. Rey shakes her head and moves to pull away from him.

“I can’t, Ben,” she says, a worried line forming between her brows. He wants to smooth it out using his thumb. He wants to pull her close to him. But she doesn’t want him to touch her, right now, and he’ll respect that.

Rey smiles sadly at him, and opens her mouth to tell him something. But it’s her hand that catches his eye, as it goes to tug at a ring on a necklace around her delicate throat.

“Scavenger,” Ben licks his lip, desperately seeking moisture. “What’s _that_?”

Rey reaches up, eyebrows almost to her hairline while she touches the metal. “Oh,” she whispers. “It’s from…”

“Him.” The word is short, and in the time it takes to spit it out, Kylo Ren has surged through every defense Ben Solo has constructed in the last year, and roars back into power, seething in jealous rage, roaring his claim to this woman.

She’s _his._

“Did you marry him?” He demands. “Did you let that fucking scum lay _claim_ to you?”

_You’re mine._

Rey looks angry, now. “Don’t call him that,” she says, rising fluidly. Her hand twitches and Kylo feels the stirring in the Force as her rage begins to rise. _Good._ Not so pure and perfect, after all.

“And no,” she snaps. “We’re not married.”

“Good,” Kylo hisses.

“Not _yet,_ anyway,” Rey continues, whipping a dismissive hand through the air. “But he’s asked me, and I’ve said yes.”

“So where is he?” Kylo sneers. “Why isn’t he here with you, your precious pilot?” Rey flinches, and looks incredibly sad. Ben stirs, way down where Kylo’s locked him, deep in the recesses of his mind. But that weak boy's not taking over so easily, not again. “He’s not here, scavenger.”

“And neither are you,” she shouts. “You aren’t here either. You chose not to be here. You chose power over me. That was more than a year ago, and you’ve chosen power every day since then. You chose the Dark Side, and you can’t blame me for wanting something different, Ben!”

“My name,” he roars at her, “is _Kylo._ ” _And you are mine._

“No,” she says, half-unbridled rage, half-smug Jedi detachment. “Your name is Benjamin Solo. Your father was Han Solo. Your mother is Leia Organa. And you will not have me.”

“You’re on a first class space cruiser on the outskirts of the Kamino system,” Kylo tells her, glorying in the way the blood drains from her face. Her fear is beautiful, and he feeds on it.  “I can have you in a moment. And then I’ll hunt him down,” Kylo grins, a cruel thing. “It’ll be easy. There’s no other Force signature like his in the galaxy. You think any regard I have for you will stop me from destroying him?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Rey begs him. It’s the same conversation as always. He’s tired of it.

“But I do, my sweet one,” Kylo croons, walking forward until her back’s against the wall, and he towers over her. “We’re meant to be together, you’ll see. You think you love him, but I know better. I can show you what real love is.” He lifts a gloved hand to stroke her cheek, and she flinches away.

She recoils from him now, her sweet face twisted in disgust, but after he shows her – after the pilot is out of the way, after the Resistance is ash, after the prophecy the Force gave them has been rewritten – she’ll never shy from his touch again.

Rey is _his._ She just needs to learn that. She needs a teacher.

Pain was always the best teacher, in his experience.

**

Poe’s days pass in constant monotony. He was sure he’d spend his life as a soldier – and he has no problem going through the motions, knows instinctively what to do, what to say, how to lead – but now all he can imagine is how many rooms he'll put in the house he's going to build for his wife one day.

He misses Rey to the point of pain, and lives for their shared meditation every night. Sleeping has become difficult again, and the nightmares, the ones where he loses his squadron, his mother, and always, always Rey, have come screaming back into his life.

But there’s only five weeks left of this, and then Rey’s scheduled mission will be over. If anything, it’ll be over sooner than that. His girl has no idea how charming she can be, and it sounds like she’s winning over the galaxy faster than the First Order can say “Vader.”

It’s not even their usual hour when he hears Rey’s voice. _Poe._ He’s sitting alone on his bunk, and he smiles at the sudden appearance of her voice.

But then she speaks again, more clearly, and his spine stiffens.  

_Poe. Oh gods, Poe._

The Bond rips open in agony. Rey’s reaching out for him, and Poe rises, reaching back. 

Her voice has an undeniable edge of panic. _He knows. Ben knows._

_What?_

He spins around and sees his fiancée pressed against the wall, clearly a projection through the Force. Kylo Ren looms above her, hands on either side of her head.

"You will submit to me," Ren snarls. "You will be mine, and I will show you the true meaning of the Force." 

Rey doesn’t look afraid of the imposing man at first, but when her eyes dart over and find Poe, he sees fear materialize in her face.

_Get out. You have to leave, now. He’ll kill you._

“Rey!” He shouts, trying to run to her side, but something blocks him. It’s her. She’s frozen him in place from hundreds of thousands of miles away. Kylo Ren shifts, his hand extended towards her throat. Rey begins to choke, but instead of struggling, she closes her eyes as if in meditation.

“Pilot,” Ren says, voice alien to the man who had splashed Poe on Spira. He sounds cold, detached. “I should have known. I’ll destroy you after I’m done with her.”

“Get the fuck away from her,” Poe snarls. Kylo drops Rey, who collapses against the wall, eyes still closed. Ren flicks his wrist towards Poe, and he feels an invisible hand close around his throat. _I’m going to die,_ he thinks, unable to breathe, spots forming behind his eyes. _The Force_ _vision was right._ Ben Solo’s once-brown eyes burn an unholy red.

Rey’s eyes fly open, and she gasps, “No. Not him. _You will not hurt him._ ” Her words ring with the power of the Force.

Poe can’t respond; he can only feel his lungs constrict, eyes watering as Ren squeezes the life out of him.

Suddenly, like a beam of light, Rey’s voice is in his head, and it sounds heartbroken. _I love you. And I’m sorry._

Her eyes are last thing he sees, hazel and wide and oddly at peace _._ Then he feels himself being pushed backwards, through the Force and away from Ren’s grasp. Poe gasps for air, rubbing his throat and coughing through the stabbing pain. When he looks up, he’s alone in his bunk aboard _The Alderaan._ Poe stumbles slightly when he tries to walk, tries to reach out towards Rey.

There’s nothing there. It’s as if the Bond had never existed. She’s gone, and he’s…closed off, somehow. The humming that’s been under his skin since he was a boy is gone, and he feels wrong, lost.

“Rey,” he screams, throat burning. He turns in circles as he screams, trying to find her again. “Rey!” There’s still nothing.

He doesn’t know what Ren’s doing to her. He doesn’t know if she’s dead.  He screams and screams, and nothing answers.

The Force is no longer with him. Somehow, Rey has severed his connection to It, temporarily or otherwise.

Poe punches the durasteel wall in frustration, throws his entire weight behind it, and feels the skin split along his knuckles. Hot blood begins to fall from his clenched fist. He can’t catch his breath, and he doesn’t even feel any pain from what he’s sure are now-shattered bones.

“Rey,” he whispers. “Where are you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I said there might not be a new chapter until Saturday, but work got canceled today due to extreme weather, so it'll be up much faster I think!
> 
>  
> 
> also, goddamnit, Ben.(this is why we can't have nice things by t.swift playing in background)


	37. Far, Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo have a battle of wills before Rey helps the rest of her ship escape him; Poe receives several messages; Rey finds help in a strange place, far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Kylo remains a creep/possessive/awful. He says some terrible things to Rey, and threatens to show her some NSFW stuff to convince her. He also dangles what she wants more than anything in front of her in an attempt to drag her to the Dark Side and physically chokes her.

Poe is gone, safe for now, and Rey’s still backed into a corner by a madman.

“Don’t be afraid of me, little Jedi,” he says. “I see what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of being alone, still. You’re afraid of so many things. You’re afraid that maybe you _do_ belong with me.”

“I’m afraid that you think that, after all this time. Now get out of my head,” she spits, and shoves him, hard.

“You know that it could happen,” Ben—Kylo?—tells her. “Clearly the pilot can’t give you what you want.”

Rey freezes. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Kylo doesn’t have the decency to look guilty, and that’s how she knows Ben Solo, her sweet friend, isn’t there anymore. “I can feel your sadness, your loss” he tells her and rests a large hand on her abdomen. Rey tries to kick him, but he’s holding her still, pinning her with the Force. “I can feel the damage as well. So sad. Tragic, really. You were made to be a mother, a mother of future Jedi.”

“Don’t touch me,” she whispers, bile rising in her throat.

“I could help you,” he tells her. “We could find a way, together. We could use the Force to fix what’s been done to you.”

“I could give you a child,” he murmurs, lifting his other hand to her temple like he had the first time they met. “Let me give you what you want, sweet one.”

Rey gasps as Kylo pushes the memory of a vision into her mind.

_There’s a beautiful boy, one who she obviously adores, in her arms. He has long brown hair and a face full of laughter. Ben’s there too, wearing the soft earth tones of the Jedi, his arm around both mother and son. Rey watches in morbid fascination as he kisses her future self delicately, both obviously treasuring the moment. He strokes her face and then leans down to kiss the boy on the forehead._

Rey slams back out of the vision and reacquaints herself with this cold, metal bunk, the room where she might just die.

They had looked so happy, and it had felt so, so wrong _._

“There are visions of how we made that child as well, if you’d like to see.” Rey has to forcibly swallow the vomit that threatens to spill out of her throat. “The Force was very particular in sending me those dreams. They’re… quite fascinating.” Rey thrashes against his control to no avail.

“Leave me alone,” she commands him. “Please, Ben, you have to see how this wrong. It wouldn’t –it shouldn’t happen like this.” _I can’t give a child to a monster, it can’t happen like that,_ she thinks. It’s the wrong thing to project.

“It won’t happen at all, unless you let me help you.” He sounds angry now, and his voice rises into a roar. “I just want to help you.” The pressure’s back around her neck, but it’s his actual hand on her throat this time. _Ben, where are you?_ She worries that Kylo’s killed him, destroyed him for good this time. “Let me help you!” he shouts at her.

“You don’t want to help me,” she gasps. Her eyes burn and she can barely breathe. She sees Obi-Wan materialize behind him, and the ghost looks at her steadily. _Clear your mind. Use the Force,_ he whispers through her agony. _Do not let him follow his grandfather’s footsteps_. It’s like she’s behind Obi-Wan’s eyes, sprinting towards his best friend as Anakin chokes the life out of the woman they both love in a fit of jealous rage.

“Yes, I do,” Kylo insists, still squeezing her throat, “I want to teach you, to make you better. I want only to love you.”

“No,” she manages to grit out. “You want to own me.”

Kylo snarls at her and tightens his grip, but she gathers every ounce of strength she has – every ounce given to her by the Force and every ounce that was hard-won in the desert of Jakku – and pushes him away from her, his hand leaving her throat finally. Rey gasps for air.

“But you will never own me,” she tells him, resisting the urge to rub at the soreness on her skin. “I am my own person, and I will make my own choices. And I do not choose you. I do not choose the Dark.”

 _Very good, Padawan._ Rey locks eyes with Kylo Ren, and searches her mind for the linking point of their connection. She finds it, couched in a dark corner of her mind, throbbing, almost angry-red in its vibrancy. She feels the pain that went into forging it, the fear, the loneliness that she’d felt in the interrogation chair, a lost girl from the desert at the mercy of a monster in a mask.

But she isn’t that girl anymore.

“Leave,” she says, calmly. If she breathes deeply enough, she can visualize the link in her hand. “And never come back.” Rey knows what she has to do.

Kylo lunges forward, screaming, “No!” Rey pulls hard on the link from the inside, obliterating it, tearing through it like tissue paper. She feels Kylo Ren shudder out of the Force. He fades from view, and she pants for air, leaning against the wall.

“Is he gone?” She wheezes.

“He’s unconscious aboard _The Vader,_ which will buy you a decent head start.” Obi-Wan tells her. He’s regarding her with obvious respect. “I knew I liked you.”

Rey smiles at him. “Thank you, Master Kenobi.” Her voice is hoarse, and she’s distantly worried about permanent damage to her vocal cords.

“Go, child. Let them know what’s coming for them.”

Right. Kylo knew where they were, had taunted her with it. Poe’s relatively safe, untraceable through the Force as long as she dedicates part of her focus on the dampening of his signature. But the rest of the people aboard this cruiser: they need to get out, now.

Rey runs, full tilt, for the officers’ deck. She bursts onto the bridge and informs the Admiral, “You need to evacuate this ship, now.”

The commanding officers all turn as one to stare at her in shock. Rey rests her hand lightly on her lightsaber, heaving for breath. She can only imagine what she looks like – hair disheveled, red and purpling throat, eyes wild – but now isn’t the time to question her.

“Kylo Ren knows where we are and could be on his way, even now,” she snaps. “Everyone needs to get the fuck off this ship.”

The Admiral jumps into action, and orders a technician to make the all-call. Sirens begin to wail, and when she jogs back into the hallway, there’s a veritable stampede for the hangar bay.

“Please proceed calmly to the nearest transport ship,” a droid’s neutral tone soothes over the intercom. No one seems to be listening, shoving and pushing as they scramble for escape. Rey doesn’t blame them – these are mostly political specialists and donors, people with little to no military training. They can’t help acting like rats on a sinking ship.

Rey stops suddenly, feet tripping over themselves as she slides to a halt. She tilts her head. She could have sworn she heard…she looks around her, and sees nothing. There’s nothing there. And yet.

Shaking her head to clear it, she keeps running. Outside the bay doors, she spots her best friend. “Finn!” She shrieks. Finn tumbles forward.

“What the fuck’s happening?”

Rey gives him the fastest summary possible, and by the end, his face has a thin sheen of sweat. “Well, shit.” He says.

“Yeah.” Rey laughs in spite of herself.

“Okay, let’s help everyone get on board, Commander,” he says, pulling her by the hand towards the streams of people trying to evacuate. “I heard we’re going to _The Alderaan._ ” Rey’s heart sings, briefly, at the thought of being with Poe once more, finally.

But then a picture of a strange, alien place bursts into her head, and with it, coordinates. Rey gasps for air, her eyes returning to themselves. She’s still on the ship, the alarms screaming, and Finn’s twenty feet away from her, helping people board the transports.

“I’ll be right back,” she calls to him. “Give me a few minutes.” Rey pivots, and asks a nearby astromech to start up Knight One’s engines and prepare for takeoff.

“And Niney, come with me,” she orders the droid who never seems to be too far away from her. Rey surveys the scene of chaos before her, and then runs until she finds a supply closet.

“Not ideal, but it will do,” she says, jumping inside with the droid in tow.

**

Sirens are blaring, and Poe sprints from the Med-Bay – where he’d barely allowed the droid to attach a bacta-cast to his broken knuckles before shoving it off to answer the alarm– to Command, BB-8 zipping alongside him.

“Report,” he shouts as he jumps onto the bridge. Multiple transport ships blast into view, dropping out of Hyperspace.

“Colonel Dameron,” Commander Rez’na nods at him. “It turns out your intel was right. The Jedi diplomatic mission went tits up. Their position was compromised, so the Jedi Commander called the whole thing off and evacuated the entire ship.”

“Thank the fucking Maker,” Poe breathes. 

“It’s FUBAR, Dameron,” barks Vice Admiral W’’lor. The Twi’lek does not look amused, her lekku twitching irately.

“Maybe so. But, what are we waiting for,” Poe crows, slapping a comms officer on the shoulder. “Let’s get those men and women onboard!” He jogs for the door, exhilarated that he’s not technically on duty right now, so he can go and wait in the hangar for them to land.

Poe makes it to the hangar in record time and bounces on his feet in anticipation. Slowly the transports make it onboard, one by one. Poe tries not to be disappointed when the first ship isn’t a green X-Wing, or the third, or the seventh. She could have stowed away on a ship to maintain cover, he thinks, that would be logical.

Rose is at his shoulder, having emerged from the bowels of the ship. Her goggles are pushed up on her short dark hair, and she tugs on Poe’s elbow.

“They’re back,” she breathes, eyes wide. “They’re really back.” Poe nods, glad as ever to have the younger Tico at his side. Their paths haven’t often crossed on _The Alderaan,_ but her friendship has been one of his few tethers to sanity in the last month.

A full-to-the-brim ship lowers its gangplank, and worried diplomats and ambassadors pour out. They’re swiftly redirected to a holding area, where they can rest and debrief before they decide where and how to ship them.

“Rose!” He hears a familiar voice boom. “Poe!” Finn running towards them, shoving celebrated heads of state out of his way, and he doesn’t stop until his hands are on Rose, pulling her close.

“I love you,” he tells her, voice shaking. He reaches a hand out and grasps Poe’s shoulder. “Where’s Rey?”

The entire galaxy stops.

“Isn’t she with you?” Rose asks, pulling away from her boyfriend’s embrace.

Poe’s mouth is working, but nothing’s coming out.

“She should be here by now,” Finn mutters. “I saw her get into Knight One, she made the jump before we did.”

There’s a soft beep from below them. They all look down and there’s BB-9E, offering up a small information unit.

[The Jedi Commander instructed me to give this to the Central Command on the Resistance battleship, _Alderaan,_ ] it informs them.

“Where’s Rey?” Rose asks the droid.

The droid whirs and beeps for a moment. And when it speaks, Poe realizes that it’s the first time that the dour droid has ever sounded _sad._

[Classified].

***

They watch the holo-projection on the bridge.

Rose cries when she sees Rey. “But what’s on her neck?” she asks Finn.

Poe doesn’t even listen to Finn’s response. He knows what would have caused five bruises in that pattern on the column of her throat.

“ _This message is for the commanding officers aboard The Alderaan, and whomever else they deem fit to receive this information_ ,” she stands, straight and tall and proud. Poe sees the hollows of her cheekbones, and her ring where it glints on a chain.

“ _Our position was recently compromised by the Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren. I have every reason to believe that I am his main target, and as such, I have decided to temporarily remove myself from the Resistance’s proximity_.”

Poe remembers how hard the Stormtroopers had hit him in the stomach with their electric batons when they dragged him off Jakku, how he’d retched from the shock of it, convinced they’d ruptured every major organ in his torso. He’d take fifteen of those blows over this.

“ _I intend to return as soon as it is possible, as soon as I have determined the best way to neutralize the threat against us. I apologize for the abruptness of my departure; it is not lightly done_.” She breathes heavily, hand subconsciously going to the ring around her neck. “ _I wish you all the best of luck in the ongoing struggle against the First Order. Remember: We are the spark that will light the fire that will burn the First Order down_.” Poe flinches as his words from a year ago form in the mouth of the woman he loves, and the woman he’s beginning to fear he’ll never see again. “ _And may the Force be with you. May the Force be with us all.”_

The projection cuts out, and Poe doesn’t wait to be dismissed. He figures the Admiral will decide how and when to send the message to Leia. He doesn’t want to be around for that conversation.

Niney follows Poe down the hallway towards his quarters, Beebee close at its side. They speak rapidly in Binary, too fast for Poe to follow in his detached state.

When they arrive, Niney scoots into the bunk behind Poe. It looks around, skittering into every corner as if checking for intruders. When it’s sure they’re alone, it says [I have an additional message for you. Classified.]

Poe’s having a shitty day, and he figures it can’t get any worse. “Go on,” he tells Niney.

Rey’s small form appears, projected from BB-9E. “ _Hello, darling,”_ she whispers. He tries his hardest not to dwell on the circles under her eyes, or the fucking finger-shaped bruises blooming on her throat. “ _I wanted to talk to you privately_.”

“ _Poe_ ,” and his name is whispered; it kills him to hear her say it like that, like it’s the last time she’ll get to say it. “ _I love you. I love you so much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to hide you from the Force, but he said he would kill you_.” Poe wishes he could break through the holo and hold her, time and space be damned.

“ _And I want you to know how much I wish we’d stayed on Spira, or gone back to Yavin 4. I wish we’d married each other then, with only the galaxy as witness.”_ She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a wavering breath, and Poe mimics the action. “ _Sorry. I don’t have much time, my love. Just know that I’m sorry for leaving. I don’t want to. I don’t want to fight, anymore. I’m tired of fighting, I’m not good at it like the rest of you are. I never wanted to be a solider. I – I want to be your wife. But I need to be a Jedi, so that’s what I have to do right now.”_ Poe isn’t so sure he’s good at fighting anymore, either, but she’s not here for him to argue with.

He stares at her beautiful, stricken face while Rey tells him, “ _I gave Niney the coordinates of where I’m going. Something…it’s calling me there. And I know that I need to go; I don’t even know why. You can come find me if it’s absolutely necessary, if you need me_ ,” and of course he needs her, what a ridiculous thing to say. Poe’s got half a mind to defect right this fucking second and hop in an X-Wing, to go and find her, but he stops that train of thought when she explains, “ _but for right now, I’m the thing Kylo Ren wants the most, so I need to get as far away as possible from you all. I need to go find what the Force is trying to show me. I don’t know how long it’s going to take_ ,” her voice cracks, and Poe’s already crying, hells he’s been crying since the holovid started, “ _But I swear to you, I will come back as soon as I can. And I’ll re-open the Bond, so you know before I arrive. You’ll know before anyone else_.”

“ _I’ll come back to you, Colonel_ ,” she says, tears finally escaping. “ _I will always come back to you. Please believe me_.”

“I do.” Poe whispers into the air as the projection of his love fades away. “I do.”

***

A week later, Poe stumbles back to his bunk exhausted. They’d taken part in a horrible dogfight with a fringe battalion of First Order TIEs, and while they had won the skirmish, he can’t shake the horrible feeling of failure.

Gold Two, Rey’s friend Kevra, had gone down in the fight. He’d sacrificed himself for his squadron, and Poe’s just finished recording the holo-letter to send home to what’s left of the kid’s family. Most of Kevra’s planet had been destroyed by the First Order, but at least there’s someone there for them to inform, someone to receive the recording of Poe’s hollowed out voice saying, “I regret to inform you that your loved one has been killed in the line of duty.”

Shame and exhaustion and _Rey_ are the only things on his mind as he drags his feet towards the refresher.

Beebee rolls right into his path. [Happy birthday, Master-Poe]. Poe has a wild moment where he thinks BB-8 is malfunctioning because there’s no kriffing way it’s his birthday. But then he looks down at his chronometer, and sure enough, it’s 0230 on the day he was born.

“Thanks Beebee,” he says tiredly, trying to walk forward again. The droid beeps anxiously and rolls to block his way. Poe groans, and wills himself not to lose his shit with one of his last friends in this branch of the galaxy.  “I can’t talk right now, buddy.”

[I have a birthday message for you]

“If it’s from Kes, I’ll watch it later,” Poe sighs. His dad would understand. Poe can’t get the smell of ozone and death out of his hair and he just wants to stand in the ‘fresher until the water is the only thing he can feel.

[It’s from Mistress-Rey]

That gets his attention. “What? How did you get a hold of that?”

[Mistress-Rey recorded it before you left the base nine weeks ago. She said I should play it for you if you were not reunited by your birthday.]

Poe swallows and sits heavily on his bed. “Okay, Beebee,” he consents. “Play the damn thing.”

He jerks forward involuntarily when Rey appears on his floor. The ragged hole in his chest that had been punched open a week ago throbs to life.

“ _Happy birthday, my love_.” She smiles at him, benevolently. His galaxy, his goddess. Rey. He misses her voice so much it hurts, and it’s only been five days since he last heard it. Kriff, he needs her. Rey looks unsure of herself, but she keeps speaking, unaware that those first four words in her perfect voice would have been enough to keep him going through this whole fucking war.

“ _If you’re receiving this, it’s because I haven’t found my way back to you by your birthday. I don’t have much in the way of gifts_.” The projected-Rey cradles her left hand in her right, stroking the band of silver on her finger. “ _You gave me the best gift, the most important gift.”_ Her voice breaks, slightly, and Poe’s a goner.

“No, Sunshine,” he whispers while the Rey from the past laughs through her tears, wiping her eyes. “No, you gave _me_ the best gift of all that day.”

Rey continues to speak. “ _Anyway, I wanted to make sure you could see my face when I wished you a happy birthday. I know I don’t talk much sometimes, especially not recently. But I want to try to talk, now, so you can understand how much I love you. How long I’ve loved you. Sorry_ ,” she shakes her head. “ _It’s silly, I know._ ”

It’s not silly. It’s not. And if – when—he sees her again, he’ll convince her that nothing she ever does, nothing she could ever share with him is capable of being _silly._

“ _I can’t believe it’s already been a year. I never told you, but your birthday was the first time I realized how much I wanted you_ ”  Poe kneels now, closer to the projection, drinking in her appearance and hanging on every word. His hand catches on nothing at his collarbone – he’d gone for the ring out of habit, here in a moment of extreme emotion, but of course there’s nothing there. The ring is with her, gods know where.

“ _We were fixing up Knight One, and you were standing next to me even though I could tell you knew almost nothing about the inside of an engine. Typical flyboy_.” Poe laughs at himself. She’s absolutely right. “ _And I guess the heat of the engine got to you_.”

He can tell she’s blushing, even through the blue-tint of the recording. “ _You had a little bit of sweat coming from your hairline to your jaw, to your neck_.” Rey groans and covers her face. “ _I know it’s embarrassing, but I wanted to trace its path_.” She peeks out from behind her fingers, and he swears there’s never been anything more adorable than her. “ _With my tongue_.” Oh. _Oh._ But she shouldn’t be embarrassed of that. He’d explored far more than her neck with his own tongue, dozens of times. “ _But Rose was still teaching me how to be, you know, ‘socially acceptable’, and I felt like that would have been a ‘no’, so I tried to ignore it and pretended like I wasn’t suddenly burning alive_.” She laughs, still mortified by her past self’s urges.

Poe wishes she had acted on that urge. He wouldn’t have minded. A year ago he was already so far gone on Rey, he would have taken any physical contact she offered him. He remembers the scorching sensation born from how badly he wanted her, the agony of stopping himself from touching her. Had she done _that_ in the hangar bay, he has no doubts of how he would have responded. If only she _had_ acted on that instinct, Poe would have kissed Rey senseless right then and there, and then run off with her and not let her out of his sight or his bed for weeks.

They would have had four more months together. Poe doesn’t regret a thing about how they finally got together. But four more months with her. If only.

Rey resumes talking in the holo-vid. “ _I had never wanted anyone, and there you were. Perfect, and wonderful, and kind, and so impossibly good.”_ She smiles fondly, and he wonders if she’s remembering the same thing he is, the stolen minutes outside in the rain where he’d shown her how to dance, and she reminded him how it felt to be whole.

 _“It’s your birthday again. Thirty-one. It sounds like a promising year. Thank you for sharing this past year with me. It was wonderful. At least the parts I shared with you were wonderful._ ” Poe shudders, recalling the moments that certainly don’t qualify as wonderful or pleasant or even halfway-decent.

“ _I love you more than I ever thought possible. I’m just a desert rat from Jakku, and I never had anything I didn’t have to scavenge for. I wish I had something more to give you than just myself_.” She shrugs, and Poe thinks the projection’s cutting out because it looks fuzzy, but no, it’s just his tears blurring his vision. “ _But that’s all I have. I want to give you all of myself, forever, for as long as the Force wills it. I want to share everything with you, but I feel horrible sometimes that I have so little to share with you._ ” Her laugh is sad. “ _I don’t even have a last name_.”

Rey kicks her foot out in the projection, staring at the toe of her boot while she slides it around on the ground nervously. “ _But I guess I will, soon. Yeah? Rose told me that sometimes couples share a last name_.” She smiles at him, and she meets his eyes somehow, as if she’s really there, in front of him, smiling at him. Poe can’t breathe. “ _I’ve decided that I like the way Rey Dameron sounds. I’ve even been practicing, which feels silly, but also, I don’t know. It also feels **right**_.”

The girl in the holo-vid shakes out her shoulders and sticks out a hand primly, saying, “ _I’m Rey. Rey Dameron, nice to meet you. Hello, I’m Rey Dameron. Master Dameron of the Jedi Order_.” Poe used to think there wasn’t a prettier sound in the universe than her voice saying his first name. He knows better now.

Clearly done with her practicing, Rey clasps her hands back together and smiles sweetly at the ground. The Jedi fidgets with her ring one more time and then looks back up.

“ _I love you, Poe Dameron. Thank you for being you. Thank you for picking me. It feels like the most wonderful dream sometimes, and I love you for it, for everything that you are_.” She’s reaching the end of her sweet, rambled speech, and Poe’s still hanging onto every word like it’s his last chance to breathe.

“ _We haven’t even left yet, but I can’t wait to come back to you so we can end this war, and I can be your wife_.”

BB-8 powers down the projection. The only thing Poe can hear is the soft slip of a tear from his jawbone to his lap. He struggles against his grief, the powerful sorrow he feels with Rey so far away, even as the unfathomable love he has for her rises in him faster than a starfighter hitting escape velocity. The soldier rests his chin in his hand, fingers covering his mouth while he suffers silently, eyes boring a hole into the durasteel floor.

Then –

“Again,” Poe whispers. “Please.” Beebee coos in acknowledgement.

Rey appears in front of him.

“ _Happy birthday, my love.”_

**

Rey drops out of Hyperspace after she arrives at the appropriate coordinates. She still isn’t sure how they dropped into her mind, or why she so easily trusted that they weren’t planted by Kylo Ren.

As she drops down through the cloudy atmosphere, she examines the terrain with slight unease. The planet looks utterly uninhabited, and as she parks Knight One on the only patch of land that seems to be clear of water or even remotely solid, she bemusedly tells herself that if Kylo did lure her here, at least it looks like there won’t be any causalities in the fight when one or both of them go down.

Rey climbs out of the X-Wing, and immediately regrets it, the harsh sulfur smell of the bog flooding her nose. She hasn’t eaten anything in two days, or she would have vomited immediately. As it is, her throat burns enough, still healing from where Kylo had gripped it. She’d spared only a few dabs of bacta on the bruises during the flight, wanting to hold back her emergency supply just in case.

She examines the swamp around her and then shrugs. Kylo doesn’t look like the best swimmer, so she figures she’s safe here on this dry patch if she wants to meditate.

Crossing her legs, she closes her eyes and opens her mind.

Unknown amounts of time pass before she grows concerned with the lack of response or clarity. _I’m here,_ she tells the Force uncertainly. _What is it you wanted to show me?_

 _Not a what but a who,_ is the gleeful answer. There’s a crackled giggling, from somewhere nearby.

Rey does not react to it, not even when she feels something bop her on the head, too lightly to be taken as a serious threat.

“Very calm, you are,” an old, croak of a voice tells her. “Too used to Skywalkers I must have become.”

The name comes to her, whispered through the Force in a voice that could have been Anakin or Obi-Wan. She allows herself to open an eye halfway.

A small Force Ghost sits on a stump in front of her, clutching a wooden cane.

“Hello, Master Yoda,” she greets him. “I answered your call.”

“Time it is to finish your training,” he nods. “Young Rey. Dagobah welcomes you.”

***

She has no idea how long she’s been in this swamp, but she refuses to let frustration swallow her whole. Yoda explained to her several times over that this planet was well-off the First Order’s radar.

“Helps it does that young Master Ben has forgotten his roots,” he tells her one evening. “Or else, remember me, and remember this place, he would.”

During the days, Rey follows him through the marsh, hopping from rock to rock and assuming combat stances as he calls them out.

“Again” seems to be the short Jedi’s favorite word.

Rey grits her teeth and obeys.

On perhaps the twentieth or twenty-fifth day of their training, she collapses, chest heaving, pressed against the trunk of an ancient tree.

“I’m sorry, Master Yoda,” she pants. “I will try again soon.” The damage to her nerves has flared up again. It’s becoming more and more frequent, and it threatens to knock her over in its intensity this time.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” he informs her almost smugly.

“Sorry, Master Yoda,” she takes a gulp of her water. “But that’s bantha-shit.”

She was half-worried she’d anger him, but he roars in laughter instead. “Meant to be a riddle, it is.” He taps her foot with the cane as she struggles to push past the pain lighting her every nerve. “Trying is doing, young Rey. Trying is what makes one _do._ You cannot move on if you do not first try. And if you fail, you will still have done something, and admirable enough that is.”

Rey coughs and feels her lungs shudder in response. “Fine,” she says begrudgingly. “But I still need a moment. I can’t stand. I can’t keep going right now. All I can feel is this awful pain. And it hurts. I hurt, and it’s making me weak.” She closes her eyes and gestures at herself, feeling useless. She tries to re-order her senses.

“No, no, no!” Yoda squawks at her. “For a reason, pain became a tool of the Dark! Fear it, you cannot. Fight it, you should not. Accept it, you must.” She stares at him, blankly. “Breathe, Rey. Just breathe.” She obeys, her eyes following Yoda’s small green hand as he waves it back and forth in a rhythm that is easy to match with her breath.

“Pain is not a teacher, nor is it an obstacle,” he tells her while she follows his motion, back and forth, out and back. “It is another part of life, and another part of the Force. Anger you, it may. And yes, anger you it does, for good reason. But define you, it cannot.”

Rey breathes. And then she stands and takes a step towards Master Yoda, who claps in unfeigned admiration.

Rey breathes. She sets her jaw. She keeps going.

***

She sits at the edge of the clearing with her X-Wing one morning, Yoda by her side.

They’ve covered the various forms of lightsaber combat. They’ve worked on her breathing, and have worked on lowering the walls she’s built around her pain. It’s time for her to return. Yoda declared her ready, and she agrees.

It's not that she wants to fight.

Rey yearns to help the galaxy.

“Are you sure I’m ready?” She asks Master Yoda. She stretches lightly, slightly sore from yesterday’s training. Her muscles have reforged over the last weeks, weight reappearing thanks to the steady, insistent diet of rodent meat Yoda foisted on her. Her frail thinness has given way to something wiry, something deceptively powerful.

“Run you no longer can from this conflict,” Yoda tells her. “For a reason you already know.”

Rey leans her sweaty back against a tree. It seems to embrace her much like a mother would and she closes her eyes into the feeling, briefly. “I am the last of the Jedi,” she says, accepting the fact for what it is. “And I must ensure that I do not stay the last of the Jedi.”

“Know well I do, the burden of being the last of something.” Yoda taps his cane onto an exposed root and hums. “Painful, yes. Difficult. But also important. The entire Jedi you represent. And of no better example I could think of, for all the great things the Order should be.”

“Brave you must be now, Rey. The title of Master, you must embrace. There is no other to accept it.”

Rey leans down to kiss Yoda on the head, pleased when she makes contact. He hums delightedly in response.

“Farewell, Master Yoda.”

“Farewell, Master Rey.”

He’s gone before she climbs into Knight One. Rey looks around Dagobah fondly and then settles into the cockpit, pulling the canopy shut behind her.

Before Rey initiates takeoff, she closes her eyes and breathes deeply. She finds the one part of her mind she’s kept hidden and safe the last weeks. Rey taps on it, nervously, envisions it as a wall, and with one final tap, breaks it open delicately, almost like an eggshell.

Sound, color, worry, joy, _love—_ it all leaps out at her so quickly she loses her breath.

“Poe,” she breathes. “I’m coming back.”

******

Just like she promised, Rey tells him before she makes her way back. Poe cries the second he feels the Bond burst open, and after he sends the coordinates for the base to her through their link, he sits and marvels at how good it feels, to no longer be cut off from the Force or from his galaxy.

Poe waits in the hangar bay back on their main base. He’s been off _The Alderaan_ for almost a week now, and it’s been almost a full month since Rey fled from Kylo Ren. He can feel the nervous energy pouring off him, and he stares at the entrance to the bay, unable to see the sky, but imagining that he can.

 _Poe._ There she is. _I’m here._

There’s the tell-tale _crack_ of a bird hitting atmo, and it’s only minutes later that Knight One appears, soaring through the bay, and settling towards its dock. Poe moves forward as if in a trance, stumbling at first, walking slowly, but picking up speed until he’s sprinting, running faster than he has since he was a teenager.

The ship hisses slightly, waves of condensation pouring off of it, and when the canopy springs open he has to fight the urge to jump into the cockpit to see her. He plants his feet under him and waits, waits like he has for six weeks.

Rey stands up, and his breath catches. She’s still the most beautiful thing in this galaxy, or the next.

She’s paler than before, her hair longer and in a single, uncomplicated braid. Her robe is loose and hides her body, but as she climbs down to the ladder, he can see that she moves more fluidly than she had after _Sidious._ Her movements are more balanced, more controlled now.

She straightens up, and looks around, biting her lip anxiously. One hand is on her ring, and when she sees Poe, it’s like the entire universe narrows down to just them. Rey takes a tentative step forward, which he mirrors, and they move towards each other, suddenly hurtling forward like objects in space trapped in a collision course at the mercy of gravitational forces and –

Rey’s in his arms. She’s safe, she’s here, she’s home. The agony of the last two months fades into distant memory as he breathes her in, buries his nose into her neck, and feels her heartbeat, strong, steady, undeniable next to his.

“You came back to me,” he whispers, feeling the words tear out of him, stinging in their relief. She tightens her grip on his shoulders. He holds her even closer in response.  

“Of course I did,” she says, voice full of wonder. “I always will. I love you.”

She loves him, and she came back to him.

Poe feels hope surge, strong and clear in his heart, for the first time in months.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The middle part of this chapter is so dialogue heavy and I was a little worried about it; I hope it worked!


	38. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey discuss what happened during her mission, and Rey opens up to Poe about her worst fear; Ben/Kylo battle for control; the First Order wants to fulfill its destiny; Rey and Finn train; Rey attends a party where she's a guest of honor, and meets someone she didn't care for the first time, and Poe's there to intervene, but mostly to watch her and woo her.
> 
>  
> 
> tw: referenced sexual assault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!: Rey relays what happened with Kylo during his mission to Poe, particularly recounting his assault/his touching of her without permission, and Poe assumes that there was sexual assault (there wasn't, but he makes the assumption based on what she says) and he has a mild panic attack.

Poe stands next to her for the whole debrief, drinking in her appearance and listening to her succinct summary of her weeks away – _and Maker, she’d met **the** Master Yoda, his mother used to tell him stories about the legendary Jedi, the rumor was he’d fought over twenty Sith and won each time _– and personally hearing the entirety of it as she fills in private details through the Bond.

The best news, really, is that she’s eating again with Yoda’s help, and he tells her that _I’ll cook you swamp rat every day if you want_ , making her laugh behind her hand as she goes over plans with Leia, the other Generals, and the Admirals.

They all agree, emphatically, that with the combined force of the Resistance’s military, the new fleet bought and paid for by the donors Rey had swayed on her cut-short mission, and Rey’s new-found strength, the time to strike is approaching. Per intel from Leia’s spy network, the First Order will be gathering the majority of its fleet in two weeks, ironically near Endor, as it prepares for some annual military demonstration. The Navy will be in the sky, demonstrating its weapons; the Army will be on the ground, executing a large, symbolic parade in the place where the Rebellion had beaten back the Empire thirty-one years prior.

Poe’s never loved Rey more when she stands, firm and strong in front of the projection, and announces, “The intent of this display is to instill fear in the galaxy, but we will use the First Order’s hubris to our advantage. Our time is now. The Force is with us.” The commanding officers back her unanimously, and they leave the bridge ten minutes later, Rey shaking hands with most of the men and women on her way out.

She holds his hand on the way back to their room. There’s a lot more they need to talk about, but Poe has plans for them that are different than talking.

He kisses her the second they’re alone, eager and aching and _ready,_ but Rey pushes him away, laughing.

“I really need to shower,” Rey says, still laughing. “I stink.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Poe shrugs, smiling breezily. He wouldn’t care if she smelled like the back end of a bantha on a hot summer day. She’s perfect, and she’s here. That’s all that matters.

But she’s clearly uncomfortable, so he shrugs out of his jacket, and pulls his shirt and pants off, shaking his hips for her amused benefit as he walks to the 'fresher. “I’ll get it all warmed up for you, Sunshine.”

“I’m sure you will, Colonel,” she shouts at his retreating back. Poe just grins.

He turns the ‘fresher on and resists the urge to touch himself. Rey’s been through a lot, they both have, and as much as he teases her, he doesn’t plan on turning this into _that_ kind of ‘fresher trip unless she asks him directly. She said she wanted to shower, so he’ll just help her with that.

The door opens and he turns around, reaching for the soap. The sight of Rey in the entrance, naked and perfect and here – he can’t quite get over that she’s _here_ – makes his knees weak.

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly aware of his hair curling in the steam.

“Hello,” she says, walking forward until she’s next to him.

They stand in silence under the water, just looking at each other in unguarded intensity. It doesn’t feel sexual at all; personally, Poe is remembering what home looks like, feels like. He wordlessly hands her the soap and turns his back to her while he washes his hair.

“Want me to wash yours?” he asks hoarsely after he rinses out the shampoo. Rey nods, and turns her back to him. Poe kisses her shoulder while he works up the lather, and when he’s done, she spins in his arms and kisses him gently.

They stand like that a little while longer, and Rey makes a soft sound into his mouth. Soft. This all feels very soft. But then something shifts, and Rey feels sadder, more vulnerable.

“Poe,” she whispers. “I never asked. Have you…have you seen him, since I opened the Bond again?”

He’s only been reconnected to the Force for ten hours, but he hasn’t seen or felt the presence of the Supreme Leader. “No,” he tells her honestly. “I think he forgot about me.”

“I don’t think so,” Rey says miserably. “Poe, he was going to kill you. I was so scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. I was, too.” _But for you, not me._

“Don’t be afraid for me,” Rey laughs. “I broke the Bond with him, I’m pretty sure” and Poe can see the memory of her shoving him backwards, through the Force and out of sight, and isn't that amazing. “I was so angry with him after he hurt you, and then after you were gone…he tried to…” She shakes her head and he’s rippling with anxiety. “I just never thought he’d actually want to, would try to…”

“What did he do to you?”

Rey swallows, nervously, and then takes his hand. “He choked me,” she whispers. She drags his hand upward, and places it on her neck. His fingers twitch compulsively, remembering the purpling bruises from the holo-message. “Like this.” She presses his fingertips into the soft column of her throat. Poe flinches at the image in his mind, _pain and fear as a much taller, larger man pins her against the wall and she’s sure she’s going to die, she’s never going to see Poe again, why didn’t they just get married and run away, oh kriff, Ben, please, please Ben, please stop_. He isn’t sure if she’s aware she’s projecting this memory. “And I couldn’t talk right for days.” ‘

 _I love you_. _I wish I was there for you,_ he tells her, hand soft on her neck. Rey lifts her own hand away from his wrist, and looks him in the eyes. He can feel her swallow under his palm, and every molecule of his body is aware of how much trust she’s putting in him right now. She trusts him so much; he wonders what he did to earn it.

“You’ve done everything to earn it,” Rey tells him. “And I love you too.” _More than you know._

Poe lifts his thumb, and kisses her softly where the digit had just rested. He repeats it for each of his fingers, lifting them one by one and letting his lips drift over the spots she’d shown him. The water of the ‘fresher rolls down her skin in fat drops, and he licks those away gently, savoring the taste of Rey, pure under his tongue.

He wants to kiss every inch of skin Ren had touched.

“Where else did he touch you, sweetheart?” He tries to make it sound like he’s not jealous – he’s well and truly _not,_ he’s more enraged that someone had touched her without her permission. Rey’s the strongest person he knows, and she had kicked Kylo Ren’s ass literally across the galaxy, but no one deserves to be touched without permission, with violence.

“Here,” she says, pointing at her knee. Poe frowns, water dripping into his eyes as he follows her finger. “He was Ben at that point. He thought we had broken up, and he touched me there, not rudely or anything, and he stopped when I asked. It didn’t make me mad, he wasn’t trying to be awful, and it certainly wasn’t violent, but I wanted you to know.” Poe nods and then kneels on the floor of the refresher, like he’s worshipping her, which in a way he is. He always is. He cups the back of her knees with both hands, and kisses her kneecap, all the way around.

Poe knows from the way her thighs press together that he’s in dangerous territory. He fights the deeply-ingrained instinct to drag his two-day stubble along the soft skin of her inner thigh until his lips meet her, sweet and warm and ready for him. Poe wants nothing more than to get lost between her legs. But this isn’t about that.

He clears his throat instead, and plants one last kiss on the inside of her knee where he knows she’s ticklish; it earns a jolt and a squeak from his girl. He stands, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Where else?” Poe asks, hoping it doesn’t sound too much like a demand. Rey looks away from him.

 _You don’t want to know._ It’s so soft, he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear it.

“Know what?”

What did he do to her? Poe thinks he’s going to vomit, his mind ripping into worse and worse scenarios, ones that would have caused the pained shame on her face. Rey would have _told_ him if that had happened, wouldn’t she? He fights the urge to beg for more information. As much as she means to him, and as much as he hopes he means to her, Rey doesn’t _owe_ him information about her body, what happens to it. He wants to help her with any burden, but – _oh fuck,_ he’s crying, the tears mixing with the water sliding down his face. “Rey?” He whispers over the sound of the ‘fresher. He tries to communicate how badly he wants to hold her, but how much he understands if she doesn’t want to be touched by him, by anyone else for any reason, and the room spins around him.

She shakes her head, crying as well. “He didn’t. He didn’t touch me like that. He wanted to, but he wanted me to agree to it.” She puts a hand over her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. _He said he had a vision about it. He tried to show me._

The nausea isn’t going away, but he can manage it, he can be strong enough for her as he reaches out, and she steps into his arms again. She’s trembling, and _I don’t think you want to know, I don’t know if you…_

Her thoughts are agonized, and he can’t have that. “Where else did he touch you?” He asks, staring at the grey wall over her shoulder. She sighs and pulls away slightly, taking his wrist again, and guiding his hand to her stomach. Rey pushes his palm flat against her lower abdomen, and they stare down at it together.

“Why would he…?” Poe begins, blinking water out of his eyes. “Why?”

Rey looks nervous and pulls away so she’s out of the shower. Her hair is plastered to her head in dark strands, and she holds herself around the middle, like she’s trying to hold her organs in. It kills him to see her so vulnerable, and he wishes suddenly that _they_ _weren’t naked_.

Rey shakes her head. “I’m not…I don’t mind being naked in front of you.” She smiles at him. “You’ve always been able to see right through me, anyway.”

“Not true,” he tells her. “Like I’ve said, sweetheart. There are galaxies in you. And I want to know them all.”

Rey lowers her arms then and looks at him directly, chin out proudly. Poe stares at her body differently than he would in the bedroom. He sees her for what she is – a Jedi, a warrior, a scholar, a survivor—everything that makes her _Rey._ He takes in the harsh white scar from the brand that monster on Jakku had burned into her hip. He sees the hard-earned muscles of her stomach and arms, admires the cords of it that run down her long legs. Poe loves the subtle curve of her breasts, knows it well – _I could always know it better,_ he thinks, which earns a soft smile from his beloved – and he lingers the longest on the ring that hangs between them, silver and perfect against her skin.

“I want to know every part of you,” he tells her, putting a broad palm on the small of her back, trying to guide her to closer to him again.

Rey nods, and steps closer to him, back under the refresher. She kisses him and he leans into it, pouring himself into her, into the Bond.

“Please,” Poe says the second they part. “Please, tell me everything. I want to know everything.”

“Okay. A month into my assignment,” She says, her hands drifting to his waist and stroking at his hipbones distractedly, “A month in, I realized that I hadn’t had my courses in a while.” Poe’s hand goes back to her stomach, instinctively, feeling for something that he knows isn’t there, not when it would have been at least two months by now, she would have shown by now. He wants her to keep talking; he remembers the difficult conversation he’d listened to in the Med Bay when she returned to _Sidious._ They’d never talked about it, it never seemed to be the right time, but it seems like the time is now, huddled together in their small ‘fresher, potentially only days away from whatever the Force has in store for them.

“Yeah?” he says, in an attempt to encourage her to keep going.

Rey nods. “Yeah. I went to the doctor, and obviously I wasn’t pregnant.” Poe strokes a hand over her abdomen in a hopefully comforting way, and then pulls her close, dropping kisses into her wet hair.

She continues to whisper into his collarbone. “I saw Ben a while later, and I guess I was still upset about it. When he found out we were engaged, it was like he was a different person. He became Kylo so quickly, and it was like Ben had never existed. He said horrible, _horrible_ things.” She shivers, and then just shows him the memory.

Poe holds her tighter as the vision goes on, seeing when Ren had splayed his hand over Rey’s abdomen, claiming to know what she wanted, tensing at the sight of Ben and Rey Solo with their child, ears ringing with Kylo’s taunts of _Let me give you what you want._

But, Rey obviously does want a child.

“Your child,” she says, fist curling on his collarbone as she shakes her head. “Not _a_ child. Kriff, Poe. I want _your_ child. Not his.” Poe rests his chin on her shoulder, trying to hold her as closely as he can, wishing not for the first time that he could wrap himself around her and stop every horrible thing in the galaxy from getting to her. Poe wants to stand between her and the Dark. He wants. He wants.

She hears him. She hears what he wants, and he can feel that it’s another fear confirmed for her.

Before he can reassure her, she starts to cry, weakly. “I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “I wanted to. I wanted you there. I wanted you there so badly after the doctor told me.” And there’s another memory, one of a kind-looking old man telling her she’s missed her period because she’s too thin, he feels the chilling numbness only broken under Finn’s kindness: and he _hates_ himself from not being there, and he's glad that Finn was at least there to hold her, to comfort her. “I needed you, but I couldn’t tell you. Not when I’d failed. Not when I couldn’t give you what you want.”

In her memory, her soul weeps for him, for their child, for herself. In the present, Poe’s soul reaches out for hers.

“You didn’t fail anybody, sweetheart,” he shakes his head against the very thought of it. _Fuck, how had he let her think she’d failed._ “And I want you. You’re what I want.”

“But what if it never happens?” She’s almost hysterical now, body wracked with it. “Master Yoda helped me with so much on Dagobah, but _this._ This is worse than everything else. What if I can’t do this? What if I never become a mother? What if I can’t give you a child?” She sobs openly into his chest. Poe compares the moment to every other terrible pain he’s personally endured – the first time he ejected from an X-Wing going full speed; breaking his femur when he was ten and stupid and Ben dared him to go a little higher in the tree; the needles shoved under his fingernails by uncaring interrogation droids; being eviscerated from the inside out by a masked creature he knew was actually his brother – and nothing comes close to this. Rey sobs into his shoulder, and all he can do is hold her under the stream of the refresher, hold her and whisper pointless kindnesses into her hair as her heart breaks all over again, and he can _hear_ it, he can _feel_ it, along every fracture, every fault line.

Rey cries into his chest, and he looks up, against the spray of water, his chin on her head. He prays to the Force for some way to help her with this. He prays for a way to help her even as his own hope frays along the edges. But Poe doesn’t know how to help her when he’s drowning, too, drowning under the knowledge that he wants this almost as much as she does: he wants to give her a child, wants her to be mother to his children, wants to see her happy and loved from every possible direction.

He comes up with nothing. All he can do is anchor himself to her, and promise with every part of his soul that he will love her, and he will be there for her, as long as the Force wills it.  _I'll love you,_ he tells her.  _That's what will happen. I will love you for as long as I'm alive, and then every moment after._

Rey cries into his chest, and Poe holds her, long after the hot water has run out.

**

***

(Six weeks prior)

Kylo Ren destroys a suite of rooms for the first time in recent memory.

He deactivates his saber, and throws it across the room, and switches to slamming his fists into the panel, feeling the bones crack under the pressure, using the Force for larger impact with each strike.

Rey will marry another.

_She’s mine._

For the first time, he takes comfort in the fact that if Rey fails to kill Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron will die at the Force’s request.

_But he’s mine, too._

He stumbles back at the thought. He can’t deny the possessive streak he has for the pilot. It’s what caused him to drag the man off Jakku, and then personally interrogate him. The new memory of choking the pilot makes him remember what Rey had called him so easily: a _monster._ He’s a monster.

Poe Dameron was Ben Solo’s before he was anyone else’s. His best friend, his brother.

And now his worst enemy.

It’s clouding his judgment, it tears him apart. The Resistance, Rey, the Light, Poe, all of it. It needs to burn. Kylo Ren included.

Kylo can’t think straight. Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s destroying him. 

He hates her.

He loves her.

There is no way out.

***

Weeks later, and he still can’t find the scavenger, or the man she intends to marry. He’d even tried to seek out his mother’s signature, a fruitless event that had caused him to later shove a squad of Stormtroopers across the hangar with no provocation. He grits his teeth and kneels in the corner of his room as he reflects on the cruel choice before him.

The Force continues to taunt him with visions of the forest. Rey dies with more frequency, now, in increasingly violent and horrifying fashion, and it threatens the last shred of sanity he possesses.

If neither die in the vision, Poe does, and it’s every fucking time, no other option.

There’s no longer a vision with a child – not for Poe, not for Ben – no longer a vision with them as a happy, cobbled-together family that includes Ben, not as an afterthought, but a full, beloved member.

Ben and Kylo battle for control in his mind, trying to make sense of the horrible decision he’s faced with.

Guilt chokes Ben Solo from the thought of almost killing his best friend weeks ago.

Fear shakes Kylo Ren to the core as he imagines a galaxy without Rey in it.

No matter how he calculates it, he can only see one outcome with a survivor.

If Kylo Ren is struck down in a duel with Rey, she will live.

If they both turn their back on the Force’s command, Poe will die – obliterated aboard a ship in a heroic sacrifice, impaled on the end of a Knight of Ren’s saber, shoved out an airlock by an enraged, crazed Ben who still struggles with the ghost of Kylo Ren.

If Rey dies, and Kylo Ren lives, he will be destroyed. Ben Solo will be gone, forever, not even a memory. Kylo Ren will have no drive, no motivation to continue on his path. Death will be the only escape.

Ben thinks that it’s a fairly easy choice to make. And Kylo hates him for it.

**

Urked Ren calls to order a private meeting of the Knights of Ren.

“The Supreme Leader has been distracted of late,” he tells them. “And I think we know why.”

They murmur their assent, and he smiles grimly behind his mask, not caring that they can’t see it.

“While I have a deep, abiding respect for the former Master of the Knights of Ren, as the new Master, I must insist upon our united front in freeing the Supreme Leader of any more distractions.”

“I agree, Master Urked,” Ba Ren says at his shoulder. “Our assistance is needed for him to fulfill the destiny of the First Order.”

“Let us reflect on it, my fellow Knights,” Urked says, pleased that they’ve bent to his will so easily. “And may the Force follow us.”

**

  
Rey meets Finn in the training room, four days before their planned strike. 

They circle each other, unsmiling, and Finn activates his laser baton at the same time Rey thumbs her practice lightsaber on. 

He strikes quickly, years of First Order training allowing him to leap over her parried defense. They circle and strike, duck and weave for almost thirty minutes. Rey runs along the wall, a foot above his head, at one point. Finn shouts "Cheater!" his first word of the session. 

Both are panting by the time Rey manages to flip her weapon over his head, slide on the ground under his spread legs, leap upright once more while catching her weapon, and activate her saber, leaning it near his neck. "Yield!" She says, victorious and sweating.

"Alright, alright," Finn laughs and chucks his baton away. "You're getting stronger, Jedi." Rey walks over to the side of the room to grab a canteen.

"That's right," she smirks, chugging water. "You could say I'm...kind of a big deal."

"Fuck off," he tells her without any heat. "How's your work with the real thing?"

Rey summons her actual lightsaber to her hand idly through the Force. "Want to check it out?"

Finn nods, excitedly. He hefts it in his hand after she hands it to him, and he turns it on. "Whoa!" He says, obviously impressed. "That thing really hums." 

Rey grins. "Yeah, it really does." 

"What's with the color?" He asks, confused. "Wasn't Anakin’s blue?"

"The color is based on the Kyber crystal. It settles on one when it unites with a Force user," she tells him. "So they have different meanings. My calling to the Force is different than Anakin Skywalker’s was. This crystal chose me, and I accepted. It told me its name, and taught me mine." 

"That's some heavy shit," Finn waves the weapon around experimentally, but also gracefully. Rey smiles at him, wondering not for the first time if Finn was meant to be a warrior of the Force. "What's it called?"

Rey tells him; Finn turns her lightsaber off and hands it back to her, roaring with laughter. "Well, that just fucking figures, doesn't it?" 

 ***

There’s a party, two days before they fly to Endor. Apparently it’s tradition, to revel in being alive, and to celebrate the hours that are still promised to them. There’s alcohol – which Rey had taken a single sip of before gagging and passing to a very cheerful, already inebriated Finn – and plenty of food, which Rey was much more interested in. Poe, looking handsome in his dress uniform, had watched her delightedly, whisky in hand, as she loaded her plate with as many delicacies as she could fit.

He offers to fill her plate the second it’s empty, and Rey waves him off, laughing, before going to dance with Rose.

She teaches her a folk dance from her home planet, and Rey adores it immediately. She’s glad she convinced Leia to let her wear the more traditional robes of the Jedi instead of a dress – she’s a Master now after all, a General, technically—because the dance involves a lot of kicking in time to the music. Rose lets Rey spin her around and around, and then spins Rey back, both of them giggling wildly from the difficulty their height difference poses; and, even though she hasn’t had more than a sip of alcohol, she feels lighter, happier, a buzz thrilling through her from the sheer joy of it all.

It’s hard to remember what waits for them in two days; hard to remember that many of them might not survive. Rey understands why this celebration was necessary, and she grins at Leia who sits at the front of the hall, tapping her cane with the upbeat music. The droids are nowhere to be found: BB-8 and BB-9E had fled from the festivities an hour ago, Niney ushering the orange droid away after it had spun in circles too many times and started groaning in dizziness and distress.  

Poe’s sitting against the wall, smiling at her, something inscrutable in his eyes. They’d talked a lot over the last few weeks; one conversation alone was probably more words than she’d ever produced in her life before, combined. She still feels a sadness, a deep one, that she might not ever see the Force Tree's vision come to fruition, the one where she and Poe had a sweet, beautiful, perfect child. Rey hasn’t told him or shown him that vision. They’re working towards being at peace with their reality, and she doesn’t want to upset that.

She’s stirred from her reverie by Chancellor Trextin of Eriadu, who appears in front of her so suddenly she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d installed a trap door in the hall.

“Commander Rey,” he says. “A pleasure to see you again. You’re just as beautiful as ever, even in those robes.” Rey chokes on the pleasantry she had ready for him. “And who is your _lovely_ friend?” He openly leers at Rose.

“Hey!” Rose waves to nobody over Trextin’s shoulder. “Yeah, that’s Finn, I think he needs me!” Rose says, dodging away, and sticks her tongue out at the Chancellor behind his back.

“Chancellor,” Rey nods, walking forward as if to follow Rose. He follows her, and she grits her teeth. “And it’s General now, actually.”

“How wonderful,” he says, hand coming to catch the edge of her robe. Rey considers using the Force to drop a table on him or something, but he donated a lot of money to the Resistance, and she can almost feel Leia Organa willing her to _behave, Rey, just for a few minutes_. Damn her Force sensitivity.

She settles on twitching the fabric away from his hand, swiftly enough that it could just be nature at work.

They’re almost ten feet away from the front of the room, and Trextin’s still trying to talk to her.

“I wish you the best of luck in the upcoming battle, General Rey.”

She nods stiffly. “Your Excellency’s concern is well appreciated,” Rey manages to sound polite. She thinks.

He mistakes it for genuine interest. “There are many things I appreciate,” he tilts his wine goblet at her before drinking. He smacks his lips repulsively before continuing. “The hall, the music… the company.”

 _New friend, Sunshine?_ She turns to look for the source of the voice.

Poe watches from his seat, leaned against the wall. His eyes are dark as he regards her, and he drags his thumb against his lip and smiles, something in it that makes her stomach churn with an emotion that’s almost-nervousness, but might be more like interest _._ Rey peeks into his mind through the Bond, and _oh._

She sees the bare stretch of her own back as she’s bent over his desk on Yavin 4, she hears herself beg for him, and she feels the deep, abiding love that he pushes behind each thrust, and _oh,_ he loves her, he trusts her, and he’s hers. Rey clears her throat, trying to hide her sudden arousal, and turns to the man next to her.

“Will you walk with me, Chancellor? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

He grins, the smarmy bastard. “Of course, Rey.” She places her hand on the arm he offers her, and sweeps across the hall. She comes to a stop in front of Poe and speaks to her pilot directly. _Will you please stand up? So we can get this guy the fuck away from me?_ He obeys, grinning darkly at her before rising so he’s facing Trextin.

The Chancellor is four inches taller than Poe, but Rey is amused at how much smaller he actually seems than the soldier. “This is my fiancée, Colonel Poe Dameron of _The Alderaan._ ”

Trextin startles and steps away from Rey, standing straighter as he eyes Poe. “Dameron? Last I heard, you were a hotshot pilot.” He sticks out a hand as an afterthought.

“Still am.” Poe takes it, and Rey can feel in the Force how much extra pressure he supplies. Trextin stretches his fingers out subconsciously when they break the grip.

“And fiancée?” Trextin asks, turning to look at Rey. “A new development, I wager?”

“Not really,” Rey says idly, examining Poe. He hadn’t even bothered to size up Trextin in return, but he _is_ looking at her with a hunger that suggests that she might not be getting as much sleep as she thought she would tonight. “I’ll be sure to send you an invitation to the wedding, Chancellor. I imagine it will be quite soon.”

Poe grins at her, feral, and walks forward to grab her elbow, tugging her along behind him as he leads them to the exit.

“May the Force be with you, Chancellor,” he calls over his shoulder. Rey snorts and trips along after him. Sensing the awkwardness of his grip on her elbow, he slides his hand down her forearm to slip his fingers through hers on their dash for the door.

“That man is the worst. Thank you for rescuing me,” she laughs. “What a way to woo a lady. You’re my kriffing hero.” His hand tightens around hers.

“You didn’t need my help. I knew you could handle yourself, Sunshine.” Poe smiles at her, pupils blown wide as they enter the deserted hallway.

“No, no,” she’s delighted still, thrilled by how obviously he’d wanted to take her, right there in front of everyone. Rey can’t even bother trying to examine the source of her interest in the idea that Poe’s almost incapable of hiding his desire for her in public. “Consider me wooed. Poe Dameron, you’re my only hope.”

Poe pivots and pushes her up against the wall, boxing her in with his legs and arms as he kisses her senseless, and she hums at the taste of whisky on his lips. “Ma’am,” he says, almost sternly after he breaks away. “I’d very much like to take you to bed.”

“By all means, do so, hero,” she teases him.

Rey shrieks when Poe kneels down, and surges back up, using his upward momentum to grab her around the thighs and throw her bodily over his shoulder.

“Poe!” She laughs, smacking him on the back. “ _Colonel Dameron_! I am a Jedi Master! This is not befitting of the solemnity of my Order!”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he swats at her behind playfully, “Switch off and let me woo you.” Poe begins to jog down the hall towards their room.

Rey swears her laughter echoes throughout the entire base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ buckle in ~
> 
> p.s. my roommate read chapter 37 while I was writing this just now and she threw a pillow at my head. She said it was for you guys, because you probably definitely wanted to throw pillows at my head but were physically incapable doing so, so it was for you. And then she threw another one.
> 
> Guys. Pillows. At my head.


	39. Ignite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey attend the final meeting before the battle and Rey does a good job in distracting Poe; Rey and Poe say (cough) their goodbyes; Rey waits to fight on Endor and has a long-awaited discussion; Poe works with new squadrons to take on the First Order; Rey fights for the Resistance but is distracted by the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut smut smut smut smut smut smut for the first part of this chapter both Poe/Rey POV, smut everywhere, sorry.

Rey and Poe separate when they enter Central Command the day of the attack. She needs to confer with the head of the Army forces, and he needs to meet with the Navy. They go over general plans, resources, and strategies for half an hour before they reconvene as a whole group.

Almost immediately, Admiral Murrin addresses Poe directly. “I know it’s a little unorthodox, Colonel Dameron, but we think you’d be best suited to fly in an X-Wing, today. We need our best pilot.”  

Poe nods, feeling the surge of adrenaline building. He’s appreciated the ability to grow as a leader the last couple months, but he misses being in the cockpit of an X-Wing, feeling the response of the bird as he flies through enemy fire sweeter than poetry.

“I accept, Admiral. And thank you.” He smiles at the older woman and looks at the projected map while she walks through how he’s going to lead multiple squadrons through complex formations as they target the weakest spots of the First Order battleships. He blesses the little BB-9E unit that had fallen in love with his fiancée months ago, as it had given them several clarifying points and hints about weaknesses in the plans (after Rey’s persuasive cajoling, of course. Poe thought the thing was going to involuntarily power down out of happiness after she kissed its shiny head in thanks).

The plan is straightforward, and he’s raring at the opportunity to fly, really fly, again. He feels like he’s nineteen and joining the Flight Academy for the New Republic; he feels younger, exhilarated at the thought of being in a starfighter, the way he’d felt when he was still starry-eyed and wasn’t bleary and exhausted from the reality of endless fucking war and death.

The war might end today. And regardless of the cruel visions the Force keeps dumping onto Rey, the hope that this might all be over and they can really start their life together – it’s enough to make him feel invincible.

But first, a thought that’s been nagging at him since Murrin addressed him: “Admiral, I should probably point out that I don’t have an X-Wing for solo flight.” As much as he loves it, _Sunshine_ has a two-person cockpit and doesn’t move quite as fast as a T-85 or even a T-70.

“You’ll be using Knight One, as the General will be grounded.” Poe looks up at Rey, seeing if she’s surprised by the order, but she’s just smiling.

“Don’t break my ship, Colonel,” Rey teases, drawing a laugh out of more than one commanding officer, even ones who typically just scowl at Poe’s jokes. But it’s fine, because Rey is so easy to love, and he’s laughing too.

“Yes ma’am,” he salutes her and turns back to Admiral Murrin.

“I’m sending you the plans to your datapad, Colonel. And trust me when I say, everyone here agrees that there isn’t a better man for the job.”

He smiles at Murrin, carefree, feeling cheeky and like he wants to show off, a little bit. It’s all too easy to step back into being a trigger-happy flyboy, honestly. “I appreciate this opportunity to show the cadets firsthand what it really means to be a pilot for the Resistance.” He even winks at the end.

Gods, he’s a cocky bastard.

The admiral smiles back at him and gestures at a General to begin talking about the ground forces that will set up relief teams far away from the main action.

 _You really are a cocky bastard,_ Rey’s smiling at him, sharp and a little heady, over the holo-projected conference table. He slips into the Bond a little further, which is probably unwise because they’re both in this meeting, and it’s two hours before they deploy and try to end this kriffing war and –

Yeah it’s definitely unwise, given that Rey’s halfway through running a possible scenario in her head where she’s _writhing and naked on his lap, biting at his neck while he’s in the captain’s chair of the Millennium Falcon, one of his hands on the console, obviously piloting the damn thing while thrusting into her, still mostly clothed; and he pants “Told you I could fly anything,”_ and fuck he’s too far into the Bond because he can _feel_ her arousal, feel it pooling through himself, and he’s this close to grabbing her in the middle of a fucking officers’ meeting where they’re deciding the fate of the galaxy, and then running off with her to the nearest supply closet.

 _I wouldn’t be averse,_ When he looks at her, she’s the picture of innocence, unruffled and nodding along to something General Replinsk is saying—something about ground forces Poe’s not going to be engaging with so he doesn’t feel bad about not paying attention for a few minutes--and her calm demeanor isn’t fucking fair because she says, the voice in his mind dreamy and soft the way it is when he’s typically buried inside her, _I always appreciate the opportunity to see just how “cocky” you can be._ She says it at the exact time she projects a memory of the other night: when he’d taken her on the floor of their bunk after whisking her away from the pre-battle celebration, when he’d demanded that she tell him over and over again what she wanted, what did she need, who did she want, and she’d only been able to say _you, you, damnit Poe, I just want you._

It’s too much. _That’s quite a line, sweetheart. Have you been watching holo-porn?_ He asks her, fully aware of how flushed he’s gotten.

 _What’s holo-porn?_ Rey looks over at him finally, doe-eyed and innocent. Her next smile is wicked and cuts into his gut deep. _Is that what you call those vids I found stored in the unnamed file on your datapad?_

 _Oh, fuck._ He bites the inside of his cheek, hard.

 _I don’t mind,_ and she turns back to the General and he sees her ears are turning red, which is always her tell. _I watched a few of them myself. I found them very…educational._

Poe’s going to die from the implication of that concession before he even gets to fight in this battle, but Leia clears her throat – holy fuck, Leia, he hopes to every god he can name that she didn’t overhear any of that – and starts to relay what Rey’s task is going to be, and that brings him back down faster than any cold shower he’s ever taken.

**

Poe’s quiet, contemplative, on their way back to their bunk. He had told her he needed to talk to her about something before they started walking, but he hasn’t spoken since.

His hand is warm in her own, and she focuses on it as an anchor. When they’re finally in their room, and it’s soon, too soon until they leave, Rey drops his hand and turns to face him, fidgeting in the dress she’d worn for the holo-prop they were recording during that meeting, with the intent to broadcast key scenes to the galaxy after they blitz-attack the First Order today. Rey had agreed to the dress out of respect for Leia, but also in the hope that it would catch Poe’s attention, a hope that was definitely fulfilled. It’s the same dress she wore on his thirtieth birthday, and she knows it was distraction enough without her broadcasting private pornography into his head. But now Poe looks so serious, and she can feel him thinking, _I need to do this properly, I need to…_

“You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?” Rey looks at him, uncertain. “Is it about later today? Because I agree with the General, I’ll be of more use on the ground—”

“Stop talking.” Poe whispers. He looks like a man burning from the inside out. “I’m sorry, I love it when you talk. Just. I don’t want to talk right now.”

He catches her up in his arms and kisses her with such force Rey swears her feet leave the ground. No, they definitely leave the ground; Rey squeaks as Poe’s strong hands come down, gripping the backs of her thighs, lifting her. She picks up on his intention, and half-jumps so she can wrap her legs around his waist, thankful for the slits on the side of her borrowed dress.

Usually so careful with her, Poe holds her tighter than he ever has, walks forward holding her up, and slams her back into the wall. He resumes kissing her, leaning up so he can bite at her lip as he presses his hands into the sensitive skin at her mid-thigh. Rey is afloat on sensation alone, her nerve endings throbbing almost unbearably as Poe rocks his hips up into hers, mercilessly grinding against her. She gasps for air when he pulls back to examine her. She can feel an almost animalistic pride go through him after he takes in her debauched state.

“Did you wear this dress for me, Sunshine?” Poe asks her, voice rougher than sand. Rey nods, hopeless to deny him anything. He groans, and steps into her, impossibly closer, to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Rey’s thrilled that her nefarious plan during the conference worked so well.

“I need to have you,” he begs. A desperation that she’s never heard colors his words and it gives her pause. Poe’s thoughts are stretched tighter than a rope about to snap.

She frowns slightly. “Poe, are you okay?” He pauses, breathing heavily into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

“Poe?” He’s too quiet, worrying her. She tugs on his hair, and he pulls back his face to look at her.

Rey examines his face and his emotional state even more closely. He’s just as worried as she is, she can tell. She’s told him almost everything by now, how the visions work, what they promise. Against her better judgment, she’d granted him a small piece of the vision of the forest after he begged her for more information. They both know what could happen today.

“I love you,” he says, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you, and I need you. I can’t bear to be parted from you. Can I – can I. Please. Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

They’ve been through so much, suffered through so much together, and she loves that he still asks, every time, if she wants him. Of course she wants him. She lets a hand drift from his temple, down his cheek, to cup his jaw. Poe chases the touch, eyes closed in an attempt to hide his anxiety as he waits. He presses his lips into her palm.

“Yes,” she whispers, voice then rising, putting as much strength as she can behind her words. “Yes, Poe. I want this. I want you. I love you; I love you so kriffing much—can’t you feel it?” Rey pushes the Bond open, as widely as she can, showing every part of herself to him.

Poe looks at her, almost falling back from their embrace from the staggering emotion that passes between them. A tear falls from his eye as he bites his lip. Rey needs him to believe her. “I love you so much it baffles me. I will want this with you until the day I die.” She refuses to even form the thought _and I don’t want you to worry if that day is today._

Poe moans, strangled, and kisses her with renewed passion. It’s only his legs that are supporting her weight against the wall now; his hands fumble underneath her dress, shoving aside her undergarments, talented fingers quickly finding a way inside. They gasp together as he finds a rhythm, and Poe leans back to watch her face hungrily.

Not to be outdone, Rey gathers herself enough to twist an arm underneath their aligned hips, scrabbling at the fastening on his pants. Poe uses his free hand to help her open it, panting with restrained exhilaration as her small hand finds the tip of his cock and rubs a thumb over it.

“Are you ready for me?” Poe asks, rocking two of his fingers into her. Rey whimpers, shifting her hips in an attempt to get closer to him, pulling her own hand back so she can grab his shoulder.

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, now.”

“Yes, what?” He commands, greedily. Rey can tell what he needs. She always can.

“Yes, Colonel.”

Poe grins, a devil in his eyes, and pulls his hand away. Rey barely has time to mourn the loss before Poe grabs himself, strokes once or twice (both their eyes close from the feeling of it), lines up with her opening, and slams into her, harder than he ever has on the initial stroke.

The love he possesses for her reverberates in Rey so hard, she feels her bones throb with it, in time with the rapid, barely controlled pace he begins to set. The Bond is alive with the anxiety he feels for the battle, the confidence he has in her and in his own abilities, and the desperation she heard earlier, now recognized as a desperation to convince her of how much he loves her.

“I know,” Rey says, almost incoherent from the onslaught of emotion. “I know that you love me. I love you, too. Kriff, I love you so much.” Poe kisses her, pinning her to the wall with his swift, hard thrusts. His tongue presses into her mouth with almost the same force he takes her; he’s never kissed her like this, never fucked her like this. _I like it when you’re rough with me,_ she thinks into the Bond. _My colonel. My pilot._

**

The part of Poe that still knows the definition of self-control and restraint curses him. This is not how this was meant to go. He was supposed to lay the woman he loves down on the bed they share, make love to her gently, quietly. Take his time and explore her body. Not attack her and fuck her against a wall.

The rest of Poe is just fine with the proceedings, and judging by the Bond’s feedback and her enthusiastic moans—now bordering on screams—Rey is also onboard with the current situation. He thinks he feels part of himself die, ascend to the next plane of existence, when she confesses how much she likes him being rough with her.

Poe lives to please, and takes it as permission to pick up the pace. Heat and passion and Rey are the only things he knows in these minutes, white-hot pleasure building along his spine.

His thighs are burning, and Rey’s hands are becoming increasingly slack on his shoulders. He realizes that it won’t be long until she’ll be too far gone to help support her weight against the wall. She’s insensible in her pleasure, and Poe loves it. Loves her. She repeats the sentiment across the Bond, and Poe knows it’s time to move.

He kisses her, stilling briefly. Rey protests through the Bond. _Why did you stop?_ Poe picks her up off the wall, adjusting his grip carefully, and carries her over to the bed.  He sits on the edge of the mattress, never leaving the grip of her body, and arranges her legs on either side of his lap so she’s half-kneeling on the bed.

Rey kneels astride him, toes curling against his thighs, and looks down at him, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her hairline, dropping off her jaw, trailing down her throat. Her dress is in disarray, and her eyes are glowing, the green in them brighter than ever. 

“ _Reina_ ,” he whispers. “ _Diosa.”_ Poe guides Rey, one hand on her waist, helping her circle her hips as she adjusts to the new angle. His other hand goes to the mattress behind him, and he presses his feet against the floor so he can meet her, matching the pace she sets. Before long, she’s riding him, fast and sure and sweet as ever, and Poe knows he can’t hold out forever.

 _Come for me,_ he begs her. _Come with me._ He thrusts into her as hard as she can take, bringing his fingers down to circle her clit.

Less than a minute later, the Bond erupts in flares of brilliant color and Light. Rey screams his name, tightening around him. He feels his body responding, his spirit reaching out to meet hers, entwining around each other as he spills into her.

They sit, panting, for several long moments, Rey’s face in his shoulder, Poe’s hands on her back. Poe feels just lucid enough to kiss the side of her neck every couple seconds. He eventually finds his voice to murmur, “You’re everything.” She tightens around him compulsively, an aftershock both physical and emotional, and Poe shudders at the extra stimulation.

Eventually, they pull apart from each other so they can stand. Using a spare shirt he finds lying on the ground, he helps her clean up, kissing her collarbone as he does. 

He tucks himself back into his pants and helps Rey step out of her ruined dress. She finds a clean tunic and pulls it on, then leggings, and finally straightens her buns. According to his chronometer, both need to report soon.

“Rey,” he says, grabbing her hand and her attention once more. “Come back to me.”

“I will always come back to you,” she promises, stepping in to kiss him, hands cupping his face. The sirens calling all soldiers to battle stations begin to scream above them. Poe couldn’t be bothered to obey, eyes closed and heart throbbing, so caught up in memorizing Rey’s lips against his own, the taste of her. She pulls away first, and Poe leans forward, eyes still closed, trying to chase her mouth. “And may the Force be with you.” She’s gone, the door opening as she whips out of the room with only those words as goodbye.  

**

The First Order had been surprised, to say the least, when Resistance fighters emerged from the woods around the ceremonial parade. Over a thousand stormtroopers were killed by the soldiers before they’d even realized they were under attack. Moments later, the majority of the Resistance Navy flooded the sky, among them the legendary Poe Dameron himself, and began to attack the gathered fleets.

Rey’s helping to command the second wave of the Army’s campaign, and she waits in the canopy on a small platform an Ewok had ushered her to half an hour ago.

Her lightsaber is heavy on her hip, and she closes her eyes and sways, trying to ignore the constant dimming and then elimination of points of life in the Force, both First Order and Resistance. Rey tries not to search out Poe’s signature, but she drifts to it time and again, a beacon of comfort as it continues to shine, golden and pure, amidst the chaos.

 _Stay safe, flyboy,_ she tells him. _I have to close the Bond, now._ She feels Poe’s hesitation and concern, vivid even as he expertly navigates the sky above her, and she knows she needs to be honest with him. _If I make contact with Kylo, I can’t be distracted, and you certainly shouldn’t  be distracted when you’re saving our asses up there,_ she tells him. _I love you._

_Love you, too, Sunshine. Come back to me. That’s an order._

_Wilco,_ she teases him. _Signing off, Colonel._

A wave of adoration and love pours through before she closes the Bond as carefully as she can.

There’s only a brief window of time before she leads the next wave, one that includes Finn, and she needs to clear her mind. Rey takes a deep breath and examines the terrain around her, willing herself not to acknowledge just how familiar these trees are – and gods she’s glad Poe is a Navy man because he doesn’t need to see these trees up close, doesn’t need to know how close to the vision they seem to be getting – and reaches out into the Force, seeking guidance and serenity before the storm.

The Force doesn’t answer, though; instead a figure begins to materialize next to her on the platform.

 “I hear congratulations are in order,” Rey stares at the ghost as it comes into focus, and tries not to let the distrust show on her face.

“Luke.” This Jedi is the first Force Ghost Rey isn’t happy to see; his rejection of her and his cruelty to Ben threatens to fog her mind in this late hour.

“Ah, Endor,” he gazes out at the forested moon. “How are the Ewoks?”

“Delightful.” She means it. She adores the small natives of Endor, and she particularly appreciates their fierceness. Rose would like them.

“How’s Chewie doing with them? They had some mixed reactions to him the last time.”

Rey can only imagine. “Chewie isn’t on ground today, he’s up on the Falcon, running supplies.” Luke nods, and they shift stances at the same time.

“I imagine you know why I’m here,” Luke says.

“Not really,” Rey shrugs. “I asked the Force for guidance; I figured it would send Master Kenobi or Yoda.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Luke, to his credit, looks amused. “Obi-Wan was already a goner, but now Yoda won’t shut up about you either. You really charmed him. I think he was mostly pleased that there’s a young Jedi who doesn’t, and I quote, give in easily to ‘tendencies of drama and tears of rage, hmm’.” The imitation is so good that Rey can’t help but laugh. She sobers quickly though.

“This is the place the Force has shown me,” she whispers. “Over and over again, it’s shown me this moon.”

“Yes, Rey. And I can’t tell you what happens next. I wish I could, but the Force hasn’t shown any of us.”

“Figures,” Rey says. “Will Ben be here today?”

“Ben, or the man who calls himself Kylo Ren.” Luke looks up at the sky. “I’ve been checking in on my nephew. He was quite taken with you.” Rey tries not to flinch, the consequences of that statement still haunting her nightmares, _Ben choking her, Kylo killing Poe, Kylo killing Leia, Rey killing Ben, over and over and over—_

“Do you regret it?” She asks him. “Starting him on this path?”

“Every day,” Luke rubs his chin, and she swears she can hear the rustle of his beard although he’s a spirit. “The ways we failed each other haunt me every day. I’ve had nothing but time to think about what you told me, about how his choice wasn’t yet made when I tried to kill him. I created a monster, and for nothing.”

Rey swallows, thinking about how she wants to phrase this. She directs her gaze at Luke’s face before she speaks. “I’ve thought a lot about it as well, Luke. You created Kylo Ren, just as much as Snoke did.” He nods, heavily, accepting the judgment she’s levied upon him as he’s already placed it upon himself. “But you were not the first Jedi to create such a monster. Obi-Wan and Yoda were both there when the Empire started; they had a hand in creating Darth Vader, whether or not they intended it.”

“I thought you didn’t agree with me about ending the Jedi,” Luke arches an eyebrow at her, but she rolls her eyes and looks away again.

“The Jedi don’t have to end, but they should be reborn. The Jedi made a mistake in separating themselves from the Dark, fearing it, refusing to acknowledge it for what it is; the second half of the Force. I do not fear the Dark.” And she doesn’t, not anymore, not after what she’s been through. Rey has come through the Dark, and in her journey, she has become her own person.

Rey from Jakku isn’t nothing, not anymore. She’s a Master of the Jedi Order, the future Rey Dameron, a best friend and trusted soldier. It wouldn’t have been possible without Poe, or Finn, or Rose, or the Light that shines from them all, from everyone she’s ever loved. But it wouldn’t have been possible without the Dark, either.

“The Jedi of old were not always discerning enough in why they engaged in conflicts. What do you hope to accomplish, Rey of Jakku, by fighting in this war?”

She’s reflected enough on this to answer Luke’s question easily. “If I come through this final test, if I survive, I intend to rebuild the Jedi, and teach them as well I can to accept the Force as a balanced whole, and to think of themselves as no better or more moral or more special than any other living thing in the galaxy. If I can rebuild the Order, we will live in the galaxy as part of its tapestry, and we will be shepherds and protectors to the people, not legends nor mythic sorcerers who wave around the Force like It’s a toy or some destined gift bestowed only to us. We will become instruments of Its will, and we will serve the galaxy’s people.” Rey ends her impassioned speech and straightens her robes, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. “That is what I want from this war, and this day. I want only the chance to help the galaxy.”

And if there’s room left over for her to build a life with the man she loves, she’ll fight every step of the way for it.

Luke is still solemn when he next speaks, and she can feel him looking at her. She doesn’t turn around. “I’ve been watching you the last year, Rey. You’ve a very impressive person, and I regret not helping you more while I was alive. I was afraid, and I was foolish, and I am sorry.”

“Rey,” and when she opens her eyes to look at him, Luke looks older than he had on Crait. “I’ve come to think the prophecy applied to my father wasn’t his at all, or mine. I do think we set it in motion, and I was too weak to see it through to the end. But you’re the one to finish it, the one to bring balance to the galaxy. I believe you might be the prophesied Chosen One.” He says it without bitterness or doubt.

The statement lays heavily on her shoulders all the same. “It always comes down to choice, doesn’t it,” Rey comments, chest tightening.

They stand in silence that isn’t quite uncomfortable but certainly isn’t enjoyable.

Luke then says, “Can I ask what you think you’ll choose to do when you face my nephew in battle?”

“I will try to save him, as best I can,” Rey says, hand on the hilt of her lightsaber as she stares out across the waving treetops of Endor. “But if it is not possible, if he cannot accept the balance of the Force: then I will finish what you started.”

She can feel him pulling away, fading into nothingness once more.

“May the Force be with you, Rey.”

Rey blinks back inexplicable tears while she waits for her troops to move out.

“And with you, Master Luke.”

The wind rustling through the trees is her only audience.

**

The dogfight’s been going on for over a fucking hour, and Poe’s gritting his teeth against the constant shriek of metal meeting metal, energy blasts carving into ships.

Sweat pours from his helmet and he has half a mind to rip it off, _Resistance Naval Flight and Standard Regulations Guidebook_ be damned, when he sees the opening they’ve been waiting for.

 _Vader II,_ Kylo Ren’s personal ship, has begun to drift above Endor, and in its haste to level its cannons on the ground forces, they’d forgotten about the X-Wing squadron, not even gnats to the behemoth, skirting above the moon’s surface and under its belly.

“Blue One, Two, Three, on my six,” Poe shouts into the comms, “Gold One, Three, Four, fan out. We got our opening, and we’re going in.”

They power up their secondary ionic engines at the same time, tilting up and away from Endor’s gravitational pull, and accelerate towards the opening.

“We’re heading in, and we need to light up those support systems,” Poe calls. “Brace yourselves, and prepare to engage in extremely evasive maneuvers, guys!”

Poe barrel rolls around a fleet of TIE fighters that screech towards them and shouts, “Beebee, now!” The primary thruster engages and Poe hoots with forgotten delight as they pitch forward even faster towards their target.

“Gold Three coming up on your left!” shouts a young sergeant, Rizza. Poe salutes through the canopy, unsure if she’ll actually see. ‘”This is for Kevra, motherfuckers.” The kid shoots at least ten ships out of the sky in her ascent, weaving defensively at the same time. The girl can shoot _and_ fly. Rey would like her.

“Nice!” Poe shouts, “Now eyes forward, Sergeant, we’re almost there. Blue Two and Three, cover us.”

“Roger that, Colonel!” comes the dual-reply.

They finally enter the ship, skirting around a clandestine opening around the weapons systems, which formed when the cannons dropped. Poe and Rizza race upwards towards the system controls indicated on Niney’s blueprints. A hundred feet away, Poe says, “Now, Rizza,” and they focus their photon cannons at the same time. Poe prays to the Force that It doesn’t pick now to stop liking him while they maintain a steady stream of blasts at the controls. Poe pulls up and around in a loop to regain enough drift to stay in place, and Rizza maintains her volley until he levels up with her, and then it’s her turn to reset. This could take almost a minute of sustained shooting, Niney had explained seriously to Rey, which is why they have half a squadron below them distracting TIE fighters.

Alarms begin to sound, which Poe can only assume means he’s doing his job. Sure enough, central weapons in the core of the ship begin to emerge, and fuck, he’s a dead man, and fuck, they need more time, Rizza’s 18, barely old enough to rent a speeder, what’s she doing on a suicide mission with an old man. She’s going to die, just like everyone else in Black Squadron. Poe’s hands freeze up on the console, and he can hear, as if through water, Rizza asking why he’s disengaged his targeting equipment.

 _Breathe._ A memory pure and clean of Rey in his bunk, holding his hands for the first time more than a year ago, breaks through his panic. _Just breathe._ She’s just as beautiful as she is now, and glowing; her smile is unbroken the way it was before Hux hurt her.

 _Relax, Dameron._ The memory of Rey smiles at him with her eyes closed _. Just, feel the Force. Feel all of it around you. Find the things you fear. Look at them. They're no bigger than you are. Find the things you love. Listen to them. They'll help you find a way back to the Light_ _._

Rey. He’s doing this for her, for their future.

He’s doing this for Finn, who he can see running after Rose, someone he’s also fighting for, with a ludicrous grin on his face, hands extended pretending to growl like a beast, both of them laughing wildly when he catches her.

He’s doing this for Leia, who he can see lecturing him and his best friend after they crashed a speeder, the woman who took him in as a second son.

 He’s doing this for his father, who’s always loved him, flawed and imperfect as he is, and for his mother, who he’s loved for all the years she’s been absent.

He’s doing this for Ben Solo, who had been broken by the galaxy, abandoned by his uncle, and abused by a cruel man; Ben, who he had once loved as brother, and who was lost in the worst way.

 _Jessika. Tallie. Kare. Yolo. Paige._ His former squadron, the friends he’d lost, the ones who haunt him even now. He needs to do this for them, not for absolution, but in celebration of the lives they’d lived, the lives lived in open rebellion of tyranny, in desperate hope for a better future.

Poe breathes. He fires.

The spark ignites.

**

Rey’s suddenly distracted from her current foe as a screaming explosion rips through the air.

 _Vader II,_ the pride and joy of the First Order’s fleet, has gone up in flames and is crashing down through the atmosphere. Rey can tell from the angle that it will end up somewhere in the distance, far away from the battle. She feels the trajectory through the Force and breathes easily when she discovers its landing point is far away from any sentient life.

The screech of a vibroblade near her ear reminds her that she’s mid-battle. A Stormtrooper beckons her closer with a hand, and Rey rolls her eyes.

“Who the fuck brings a knife to a lightsaber fight?” she wants to ask him. But she’s worried he’ll respond, and it’s honestly taxing enough cutting life-forms down without further personalizing the interactions.

Rey slashes the weapon out of his hand. “Yield,” she commands. The Stormtrooper goes for his blaster, and she has to kill him, so she can keep fighting, so she can push through.

The melee rages on, and Rey shoves troopers away from her fellow soldiers, trying to incapacitate more than she mortally wounds, but it’s hairy and she doesn’t always get to make her preferred choice.

It’s exhausting, and she tries to train her breath and accept the pain that begins to light up her nerves once again. Rey breathes, and closes her eyes, briefly separate from the fighting and –

Something pulls her forward. There’s the sharp, inescapable tug behind her navel. Rey’s feet move of their own accord, and she drifts through the battle.

“Rey?” Finn’s yelling at her from ten feet away. “Rey, what the fuck are you doing? Shit!” A Stormtrooper sprints towards him, and he turns around to fire his blaster. “Be careful, Jedi!”

Rey doesn’t acknowledge him. There’s something waiting for her. No blaster bolt can touch her: it’s as if the Force Itself is guiding her down a path that’s been laid since the beginning of time. She’s distant to herself, an instrument to Its will.

She comes to a stop, finally, and blinks, clearing her head. Rey spins around, nausea roiling her stomach as she returns to full control of herself.  

Trees toss in the wind, branches catching against each other, leaves whipping from a dark, thick canopy. She’s in the middle of a clearing. She knows this place.

Rey reaches out into the Force, reaches out for a signature she swore she’d never look for again.

 _Ben,_ she thinks. _It’s time._

_Come and find me._

**

Poe’s looping the remaining fighters, shooting down any stragglers. “The air is clearing, Admiral,” he calls to the Command ship up in open space. “It’s a beautiful day for a rebellion.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Colonel Dameron,” Admiral Murrin voice crackles back. In the background he can hear cheering. Poe grins and disengages the longer distance comms.

“Good flying in there, Rizza,” he calls to Gold Three. “Remind me to introduce you to someone.”

“With pleasure, sir.” The smile is evident in her voice as well.

They did it. They fucking—

Kylo Ren’s TIE-Silencer is decelerating towards the tree line, landing gear extended, and behind it are two imposing First Order fighters.  

Poe Dameron has never thought of himself as a smart man, by any means. But instinct and gut feelings are things he knows well and has relied on to some degree of success for years. And his gut’s telling him—

“That can’t be good.”

Poe Dameron isn’t a smart man, so he flies after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.
> 
>  
> 
> (p.s. I had a massive cliffhanger planned for the next chapter/chapter 40 but i rewrote it b/c it's being published on a Monday and Mondays are bad enough, guys. The plan is to have it up by 6 CST)
> 
> (p.p.s. I usually just right things with ~feels~ so I'm sorry if the action was awful!)


	40. One Must Die. One Must Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finally faces Kylo Ren in their destined battle on Endor.
> 
> (Sometimes help comes from the least expected places)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beyond nervous for this chapter
> 
> Warnings:  
> I have one request.  
> Get to the end of this chapter before you grab your pitchfork?
> 
> (dark times, violence, angst, stabbings, etc etc etc etc etc)
> 
> Also warning: unashamed heavy handed metaphors

Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, whoever he is now, hears Rey the second she speaks to him through the Force.

With the destruction of _Vader II,_ he’s already flying his Silencer when he hears her sweet voice once more.

“I’m going to the surface,” he snaps over the comms. “I need a small guard with me. Ba, Urked,” they’ve been demonstrably loyal in the past, “Join me; but follow my every order, or I’ll personally kill you.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” they reply.

As they near the clearing Rey had shown him – the one he knows all too well – he can hear her, almost a whisper, repeating the same lines over and over.

_There can be peace within emotion, if the Force wills it._

_I can find knowledge in ignorance._

_There can be serenity in passion, if the Force wills it._

_I can find harmony in chaos._

_All things are possible in the Force._

_I am in the Force. So too, am I the Force._

She repeats it, and Kylo Ren leans into it, burying himself in the sound of her voice, the meaning of the words, closing his eyes while his hands skate across his console, initiating landing through sheer muscle memory.

When Kylo opens his eyes again, Ben Solo reminds him of what they must do today.

**

Poe parks Knight One as gently as he can with the terror ripping through him, and he sprints the second he throws open the canopy. “Stay in the ship, Beebee!” he orders his droid, willing his exhausted legs to move faster.

It’s strange that he seems to know where he’s going. In the distance, smoke rises from the intensity of the ground forces’ clash with the Stormtroopers. He remembers Kes telling him about the terrifying hours spent on the Forest Moon of Endor thirty years ago, where half his friends died and the other half never really came back. Kes had never wanted Poe to be a soldier; he thinks he understands why.

He stops suddenly when he realizes where he is, where he’s seen these trees before. It had been just a brief vision – he could tell that Rey was holding back, but he didn’t want to push her, and he honestly wasn’t even sure that he could handle watching even her hypothetical death – but it had seared into his mind. The trees here are dense, close together, dark. Wind howls through them, dragging shreds of acrid smoke from the battlefield, and in the middle of the clearing are figures that he knows well.

 _One must fall. One must die._ The words come to him, unspoken, without a voice.  

Poe freezes on the edge of the tree line; something holds his legs in place through the Force.

Standing proudly without his helmet, Kylo Ren prowls back and forth, across from Rey, who remains unmoving, unafraid.

Directly behind Kylo stand two Knights of Ren, at attention, but not holding their weapons.

Both Kylo and Rey already have their sabers in hand.

With a snarl, the Supreme Leader flicks his wrist, activating his saber. It’s a terrifying, dull red, with crackling crossguards that leap and spit energy. Poe remembers it tearing apart the night air on Jakku, striking down a peaceful priest whose only crime had been trying to save the galaxy.

Rey holds her saberstaff. Poe has never seen her use it before. The dual-edged blade hums to life as she grips it, and she adopts a defensive stance.

The Jedi’s lightsaber is golden; the light of the clearing seems to bend around it.

“The Spark of Hope,” sneers Kylo. “How fitting.”

“We don’t need to do this, Ben,” Rey says, her voice unwavering. Through his temporary paralysis, Poe still feels a flare of love and pride for his girl and her bravery.

“Oh, but we do,” he assures her. “And remember,” calls Kylo to his Knights. “The girl belongs to me.”

 _You’ll never belong to anyone,_ taunts Poe’s memory. The pilot fights desperately to gain control of his legs again, but the Force pushes him back.

Kylo strides forward, on the offense immediately. He dives at Rey, who spirals out of his reach, one blade of her staff deflecting his saber as it comes down toward her back.

She slides to a halt, her feet catching her gracefully. Kylo stops more clumsily, and he leans down, twirling his lightsaber in his hand as he considers his opponent.

“Come on!” He roars. “Fight me.”

Rey shakes her head, sadly, her hands tight on the hilt of her lightsaber. “I don’t want to fight you, Ben. Not unless I have to.”

“You don’t get that choice,” he hisses. “The Force has brought us here, both of us. You don’t get a choice now.”

“We always have a choice, Ben,” Rey corrects, still trying to save the man in front of her. “You still do.” The conflict on Rey’s face is replaced by a smooth neutrality as Kylo charges at her again. It’s shocking to see the emotion drain from her face.

From his hidden, forced viewing place in the trees, Poe recalls the chanted mantra she uses during meditation.

_There can be serenity in passion._

Serenity perfectly describes Rey’s movements. She’s no less fierce for the lack of emotion on her face, shoulder muscles rippling fiercely with every blow she parries, feet skipping, sliding, twisting with intense focus as she wears Kylo down. The Supreme Leader and the Jedi are locked in a dance, a bastardization of the moments she and Poe often share in their bunk when the lights are dimmed and Beebee plays soft recordings of music. Today, her every movement is deadly grace, a glory to look upon, and Poe is confronted with this perfect example of why he feels so dumbfounded that she’d chosen him, and continues to choose him time and again.

His love for her protects him from the fear of losing her, for the moment.

 _His Knight._ The pulse of his affection spills, accidentally opening the Bond, something he’s never been able to do from his end before. Rey’s pushing back Kylo’s saber, when she turns, fractionally, suddenly aware of her love at the edge of the clearing. It’s all the distraction Kylo needs, and he disengages from the current position, adjusts his stance and grip quickly, and swings his blade towards Rey’s neck.

 **_No!_ ** Poe’s thoughts steer quickly towards terror. Rey reaches her hand out, and _shoves_ Kylo sideways using the Force, screaming from the exertion.

Kylo flies towards his Knights. As if on signal, the fallen Jedi turn their weapons on.

“No!” screams Kylo. “Leave her to me.” He rips his cloak off, and tries to charge at Rey one more time. The Force screams around the clash of their weapons, and as they each try to force the other into submission, Rey’s eyes close. Poe can feel her seeking peace through the Bond, and he uses every ounce of strength he has left to provide her with it. _You can do this,_ he whispers to her, as if he were next to her, whispering into her ear, as he does in the quiet haven of their bed. _You were made to do this. This is where each step of your journey has led you._

Rey’s eyes open, and the gold light of her saber hums brighter. She lands an effective strike against Kylo’s jagged lightsaber, and begins to drive him back. They twist and turn around each other, circling and diving, parrying and attacking in balanced measure.

The fight is hypnotic, and Poe is transfixed, willing it to tip in Rey’s favor. He notices that Kylo’s intense focus is on Rey’s face, and not her form. He notices that the Supreme Leader, his former best friend, his brother, stares at Rey with open hunger on his face, and with something akin to the pride that Poe himself feels for her. There are hundreds of other raw emotions playing on his scarred face: more than one of which resembles love.

 _He can’t kill her,_ Poe realizes. _It would destroy him._

Neither seem to relent, but Poe can tell now that Kylo at least doesn’t intend to truly finish this.

While frustrated by his continued inability to move, Poe takes a moment to feel merely confused as he studies the battle. _If Kylo can’t kill Rey, and Rey refuses to kill Ben, why does the Force keep telling them one has to die ?Does this mean that I really will die?_ Poe’s never been one to strike a bargain, but he thinks _Maker, Force, whoever’s listening - if she survives this, if she can live, you can have me._

He briefly entertains the hope that this is where Rey encourages Ben to turn towards the Light and shifts the balance of the Force back in favor of the Light, and that no one need die.

Briefly.

Poe’s vocal cords must be frozen by the Force as well because he can’t shout a warning. He tries to scream it through the Bond, but Rey is distracted by Ben, who’s trying to talk to her mid-conflict as their blades cross once more. Rey’s frowning, empathy and concern practically pouring out of her. Ben is animated, earnest, and tortured. “Kill me,” Poe can read the soft words as they form in his mouth. “Rey, you have to kill me.”

Neither of them notice the Knight approaching from the side. So intent on engaging the other, Ben and Rey fail to notice the blood-red saber ducking between the crossing of the blades.

They do notice it as it cuts into Rey’s rib cage and screeches downward to a halt in the bottom of her stomach.

She screams in pain, and falls to her knees, the weapon retracting from her body quickly.

Poe screams, unheard and unrealized, as the agony cuts through him as well. He can’t think, can’t focus, can’t do anything but feel. She’ll be up soon, he tells himself. She’ll get up and she’ll be fine, they’ll be fine. _She’s supposed to marry him. She’s going to be his wife._

Ben screams as well, in rage, and fells the offending Knight in one quick movement. Before the other member of his guard can react, he pulls the unlucky Knight towards him through the Force, impaling her immediately upon his lightsaber. As he murders the two warriors, Rey crumbles, falling to the side, the uncaring ground catching her. She rolls onto her back, one hand coming to cradle the wound that cuts through most of her torso. A trickle of blood forms at the corner of her mouth.

Having carried out his swift justice, Ben Solo collapses next to the Jedi’s broken body, hands trembling and not touching her. He looks up and locks eyes with Poe, both men reeling from the sight before them.

There is no blood beneath Rey. Lightsabers cauterize wounds.

Her hazel eyes stare, unseeing, into the sky.

 _One must_ _die_.

The Force releases Poe Dameron.

He stumbles forward, too late.

**

Ben watches Poe Dameron stumble out of the underbrush, towards the fallen Jedi. He collapses on his knees next to her, shaking her shoulder. “Rey?” His voice is loud, harsh. “Rey, wake up!”

Her eyes stare upward, mouth barely parted in her final exhalation. Ben feels the earth shift beneath him, even as he tells the distraught man at his feet, “She’s gone.” Poe doesn’t acknowledge him at all.

“Oh gods, Rey,” Poe breathes, hands stroking her face. “Come back to me. You promised.” His voice hitches on the end of his plea, tears now flowing freely. He seems to feel no shame for crying in front of his sworn enemy. Ben would think more of it, but tears have begun to fall from his own eyes as they mourn the woman between them.

“Come back to me, Sunshine,” the pilot chokes. “Come back to me, please. I need to…we were supposed to get married.” He may as well have stabbed Ben with a rusted knife. “We were going to get married, and you were supposed to be with me. You and me, for as long as the Force would will it.” Ben thinks that it might not be the best time to point out that _this_ is what the Force willed, all along. The Force dragged the three of them together, over and over again, it had driven Rey to think Kylo Ren redeemable, pulled Poe to her Light like a moth to flame; encouraged Ben to resurface, to save his childhood friend, to become friends with a beautiful fledgling Jedi. The Force had done of all this, just to lead Poe and Ben here, to watch the woman they love die.

As if he could hear Ben’s thoughts, Poe snaps his head up and fixes him with a watery glare.

“Fix this,” Colonel Dameron demands. “Fix this right now.”

“She’s dead.” Ben hates how tired he sounds. “She’s dead, and we can’t save her.”

“I don’t accept that.” Poe snaps. “I don’t…how can you accept that?”

“I’ve had a lifetime of accepting disappointments, Poe,” Ben says, heavily. “We weren’t all inspired by the Light as children. This was always my destiny. We’re just unlucky enough that she had to share it with me.” He can see, clearly, what his next steps are. The destruction he will rain down upon himself, and every other thing that remains when she is gone.

“That’s bullshit,” Poe argues through his tears. “Inspired by the Light as a child? You were, too.”

“You’re wrong,” Ben murmurs, finally reaching out to stroke a finger down Rey’s still face. To his credit, Poe doesn’t snap Ben’s hand off at the wrist for touching his lover. Kylo Ren had never possessed that kind of strength. Ben continues, “The Light never wanted me. Snoke was very particular in pointing that out.”

Even wrecked as he is by grief, Poe’s vehemence wins out. “No. **No.** You were _good._ You were nothing but good, once. I felt it. I knew you. I _knew you._ You were my best friend, Ben, I would have noticed if you were evil. Snoke lied to you. He lied, and you were _good,_ and Rey’s right, you can still be good.” Poe is wild-eyed with fervent hope, and he snags one of Rey’s limp hands, brings it to his lips, kisses it. He leaves his face tucked in her palm, as his hands stroke her wrist and forearm.

Ben didn’t think he had this much heart left to break, but here they are, as Poe lifts his face up to him to say, “You can still fix this. Help her.”

Poe looks so staggeringly sure of himself. Ben hates that he has to disagree, has to reject this man’s pleas. “I’m sorry, Poe. She’s gone.”

“No, she isn’t,” Poe yells, voice strangled by desperation. “Look for her. Can’t you feel it?”

Ben closes his eyes, searching for strength. As he breathes, he allows his spirit to expand outside his body, seeking peace and serenity even as the fire in his heart demands blood to be paid, and he—

He brushes up against something.

It’s Rey. Fluttering, weak, barely there, but it’s Rey.

Poe was correct. They can save her. Ben jolts back to himself fully.

“You’re right,” he tells Poe, whose face lights up, fractionally. “She’s here.”

**

Rey looks around. The room is cold, grey. It’s not a room at all. Her head feels like it should hurt, but it doesn’t. It’s just…fuzzy somehow.

“Where am I?”

“Somewhere between death and life, Rey.” The voice that answers her is musical, pleasant. It’s a woman’s voice, and it reminds Rey of someone she already knows.

“Is that a geographic location, or?” She trails off, looking for the source of the voice.

There’s a peal of laughter that sounds like bells. “Oh, I see why they like you.” The figure behind the voice forms, finally. She isn’t lit by blue energy the way Chirrut, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Yoda, or Luke were. She looks – human. Simply human.

She’s the most beautiful human Rey has ever seen.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Master Rey.” The woman smiles beatifically, and Rey leans into it, swearing she can feel actual warmth. “Sorry, I don’t mean to eavesdrop. I was good at reading people in life, too. Fifty four years floating around the galaxy, and the skills that lent themselves to diplomacy and politics in life have become almost uncanny in death.”

Rey smiles at her, certainly not offended when she reads most people by accident, much the same way. “I don’t know who you are, I’m sorry,” she says, meaning the apology because she swears she's seen this face before, eons ago through the eyes of men who loved her. She's still confused about why she’s here, and wasn’t – wasn’t there something she’s forgetting?

The stately woman smiles at her and gestures for Rey to walk closer, which she does without thinking.

“In life, I was many things. Queen, politician, senator, wife, mother. My name was Padme Amidala.”

Rey starts at that information. “But I thought...”

“That I moved on? I certainly did. I’m here to talk to you, though. The Force allowed it, asked for it, actually.” She smiles and even though she’s five inches shorter than Rey, she looks lightyears taller. _Regal bearing_ , that’s what Leia would have called it. Leia.

“You’re Leia Organa’s mother?” Rey wants to clarify.

Padme nods, looking sad. “Yes. And Luke Skywalker’s. I definitely like you, though – most people start with Luke and add my daughter as an afterthought.” She shakes her thick hair in irritation. “The galaxy and its men. Honestly.” Rey laughs with her and then remembers sharply why she’s here. It’s like she can hear…someone…sobbing her name from far away.

 _Poe._ That’s his name. Poe Dameron. The most important thing in the galaxy. She needs to get back to him, doesn’t she?

“You have to make a choice, Rey,” Padme looks at her appraisingly. Rey knows that, has been told that in every possible iteration by the Force and the men who sought to use it, but somehow it means more coming from Padme. “That’s why I’m here. I made a similar choice, once.”

 “Why did you choose this?” Rey gestures around the strange, in-between place. “Why didn’t you fight to stay?” Even as she asks the question, Rey thinks she has some idea of why. She’d been so sure back on Spira that her fate was set, that she needed to die for the galaxy. She was so willing to accept death then. _Is she still?_

“What do you notice?” Padme asks her a question as an answer. "How is this different from life?"

“I’m not in pain, anymore.” It’s true. Months of frayed nerve pain are forgotten in the grey light. She feels at peace. She can breathe easier than she has in recent memory. She doesn’t hurt, here. And she can see why Padme stayed, why it’s so tempting to stay.

“As for me: I was tired,” Padme explains. Rey understands the specific pain of tiredness well, she thinks. Here in this limbo, suspended between life and death, she feels herself relax for the first time in years. “I was tired and broken, and I convinced myself there was nothing I could do to fix what my husband had done.”

Somewhere a thousand lightyears and infinite lifetimes away, Rey becomes aware of Ben Solo watching his brother’s heart shatter into irreparable pieces as Poe begs her to return to her body.

“Was there anything you could have done?” Rey asks, because she’s always been curious, too curious, and it’s gotten her in endless trouble for over twenty one years now.

Padme smiles sadly. “There was so much I could have done. I could have raised my children, protected them, let them know that they were loved by at least one of their parents.” She looks heartbroken, and Rey tilts forward, wanting to comfort her, but Padme waves her off, smiling through her forming tears. “No, no, dear, it’s fine. I loved my children – love them, still. And I’m glad they helped the galaxy even when I couldn’t.”

She regards Rey then, looking serious. “Can you…can you tell me about my daughter? Does she ever talk about me?”

Rey nods, frowning. “She said that the Force gave her a memory of you, and that you were very beautiful and kind, but very sad.”

Padme considers this, small lines in her brow. “I wish Leia knew that most of my life was happy,” she says, after a pause that could have been ten seconds, or ten decades. Rey can’t focus on anything for very long, here. “If you go back, and I’m not saying you have to go back – that will be your choice, in the end – if you go back, could you tell her I was happy? That I loved her father, foolish though it was, until the end. And he loved me.”

Rey barely has time to agree to do just that before Padme frowns fully, still lovely through the darkened expression as she talks, almost to herself. “Yes, I loved Anakin. And he truly loved me, cared for me, wanted the best for me and our children, until the end. Palpatine twisted his heart and stole my husband away from me. A monster choked me on Mustafar, not my sweet Ani.” Padme shakes her head. “But Ani chose power over me. And so, I chose death over life.”

She sighs, heavily. “I had many choices that day, and all the ones I made were wrong. I loved my children, and I had to watch them grow up with other people, without me, and without each other. It wasn’t fair that they were forced to pay for their parents’ transgressions.” Padme folds her hands together, the most controlled display of nervous energy Rey’s ever seen. “I watched the best man in the galaxy protect my son and eventually my daughter. I watched him from afar, and I've had decades to recognize the worth of him; the worth I knew in life, but didn’t fully appreciate or seek to have by my side.”

The senator fixes Rey with a stare that causes her to stand up straighter – and how she manages to have bad posture in the afterlife, she’ll never know – and says, “Remember this, Rey. Passion is not respect. Possession is not love. Love is meant to be selfless. And the person who trusts you and treats you with kindness is always the better choice.” She smiles, breaking the intensity of her glare. “But, I guess you already understand that part.”

“I do,” Rey says, thinking of her handsome pilot and his golden heart. “I really do.” She knows what Padme’s trying to tell her, what the Force wanted her to hear.

Her choice is not easy, but complex in its simplicity.

Padme’s face registers that she’s heard Rey’s thoughts settle. Her small, delicate features light up with a powerful energy as she asks, “If you go back, will you tell her that I loved her? Every moment I carried her inside of myself, I loved her. I wanted to give her everything. Will you tell Leia that she was loved?”

“Of course. I will.” Padme’s animated face grows serene from Rey’s promise. She opens her mouth to say more, and –

“Padme?” And Rey can’t be all the way dead, not when she can feel her heart stop at the familiar voice. Her favorite Force ghost has materialized in this halfway place, probably seeking Rey and only Rey judging by the look of shock on his face as he takes in the sight of the former queen of Naboo.

“Obi,” the small woman covers her mouth with her hand, crying as she looks at her oldest friend.

“Is it really you?” He trips forward almost coltishly, and Rey sees that he’s fully the younger version of himself, this time; this is Obi-Wan Kenobi the day his heart died, young and handsome and devoted.

“Yes, Obi,” Padme takes her hand away from her face to answer “It’s really me, I’m here.”

“I haven’t felt your spirit in so long,” Obi-Wan closes his eyes and stops himself from moving any closer towards her. He breathes deeply, clearly trying to regain control. “You were gone from my sight. I thought you moved on.”

“I did,” and her laugh is still lovely, even stained by tears. “I did, but It brought me here to Rey.”

“Gods, how I’ve missed you,” Eyes open again, Obi-Wan still looks like a freezing man desperate to capture the last warmth of a sun. “I looked for you everywhere. Eventually, I took comfort in imagining you as the best parts of the galaxy. I imagined that I could see you in every falling star over Tatooine. I saw you in every ray of light, in every wisp of nebula, Padme.”

“And I was there,” she breathes. “I was there, Obi, watching you. I was there, and I was sorry.”

“Sorry for what, my love?”

“Sorry that I wasn’t strong enough. I was sorry that I didn’t live, that I didn’t accept your offer and live. I was sorry that I missed raising my children, that I didn’t raise them with you, the best man I ever knew.” Rey’s well aware that her life hangs in the balance even in this very moment, but she’s so engrossed in the palpable emotion pouring between the two that she can spare the energy to be fully amused at the blush that stains Obi-Wan’s cheeks, even in death.

“No. I’ve never blamed you for dying,” and they’re circling each other, a moon to a sun, “Never, Padme. Neither did Luke or Leia.”

“I was so tired, Obi.” Master Kenobi moves closer to Padme, seemingly without realizing it, and Rey feels time freeze. Time has no meaning here, not anymore. This is larger than time, more important than space. Padme continues, “I was so tired. And I regretted not holding on.”

“No, Padme,” he tells her empathically. “You don’t deserve an eternity of regret. I loved you. I still do, whether or not you’re near me.”

Rey clears her throat to remind them that she’s still here. “Master Kenobi, I feel that the Force wants someone to move on today.” He nods, solemnly, clearing re-focusing his attention on Rey. “But I don’t think that person is me.”

“I beg your pardon, Padawan?”

“Move on, Master Kenobi. It’s time. All things are together in the Force; and you should be with her.”

“I…” he looks over at Padme who smiles so sweetly at him, Rey’s own breath catches. “Would you want that? To be with me?”

“I’ve had more fifty years to regret my decision, Obi,” Padme teases him. “Fifty years is enough, don’t you think?” She holds out a hand, and Obi-Wan takes it, looking more at peace than anyone Rey has ever seen.

“I’ll follow you across the galaxy, my queen,” he breathes. He kisses the knuckles of her hand and she giggles.

Rey smiles, even now feeling a tug behind her navel. It’s time for them all to separate.

“I choose to finish living this life,” Rey says, distantly aware of Ben Solo and Poe Dameron arguing over her body. “And I wish you every happiness in the next one.”

“Thank you, Rey,” Padme’s eyes are the same warm brown of Leia and Ben. She seems pleasantly surprised by the lingering observation of her face by Obi-Wan, judging by how her eyes keep flickering up to the staring Jedi. “Hug my daughter for me, would you?”

“Of course,” Rey promises. “It was lovely to meet you, Padme.”

“It won’t be easy,” Obi-Wan warns her, breaking his gaze away from the woman at his side. “You’ll have to work closely with that young Ben Solo.”

“I know. But someone’s going to have to help him. He needs all the help he can get.”

“I don’t envy you, Rey. Skywalkers are notoriously hard to wrangle.”

“I’m aware,” and they grin at each other. She’s going to miss him. “Thank you, Master Kenobi. May the Force be with both of you.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at Padme Amidala with all the open affection he couldn’t show her in their first life. Rey can’t tear her eyes away as the light around them multiples to an impossible intensity, and she feels an echo of their incandescent happiness as they fade into the Force, together at last, finally returned to stardust.

She hears Poe, then. She hears his fervent prayer. _Come back to me, Sunshine. You are my heart, my life, my galaxy. Be selfish. Please. For once, be selfish, and come back to me. Come back and marry me. Just. Come back._

Rey sighs. Back to the painful business of living.

**

“She’s here”

“So help her,” Poe encourages him, still clutching Rey’s hand. “Help her, damn it!”

“I don’t think I can,” Ben whispers. “Healing is something that only Light-users can wield. I don’t think…”

“Switch off,” Poe snaps. “Do it.”

Ben nods. He needs to try. Whatever he had wanted—the day he promised Luke he’d destroy the Jedi; the night he’d given in to Snoke’s demands and burnt the Temple at Devaron; every time he’d rejected and turned his back on Rey; the moment he’d decided to take the throne; hurting the scavenger over something so trivial as her engagement—it wasn’t this. This could not be his destiny.

“I’ll try. But I don’t know how.”

“Sure you do, kid,” Poe laughs, tears still forming in his eyes. “You always knew how to do everything. You never even needed a teacher.”

The pilot strokes Rey’s hair, leaning down to whisper something for her ears only, and Ben just looks at him.

He’d always had trouble believing in love growing up, a result of his parents’ passionate and frequent fights. He came to think that love looked more like violence, more like a storm of feeling. When he looked at Rey and felt equal parts possession and anger, affection and passion, he’d assumed that was true love.

Ben thinks he understands a little better now, decades and broken galaxies away from the small, sad boy he had been.

As cruel as he’s been with Rey, as cold as he’s been to his mother, as awful as he was in killing his father, there’s one person in this galaxy who Ben Solo had ever cared about fully, without taint—despite him giving in, and allowing that love to be threatened when Kylo Ren interrogated a pilot, misguidedly trying to spare him further physical harm, only to strangle him over earning the true love of someone Kylo only wanted to possess.

Poe, who had once used the Naboo sky to create constellations rudely named for irritating senators’ children, the ones who had teased Ben Solo for his silly ears.

His best friend, who had once stolen a speeder at Ben Solo’s suggestion and accepted the blame for it, not wanting to alienate his friend further from his increasingly estranged parents.

His brother, who had sent Ben Solo messages and letters and holos for ten years, even when no response came, and no response was promised.

An ace pilot, the thorn in the First Order’s side, and the future husband of a scavenger from Jakku, who had come out the other side of Ben Solo’s love and Kylo Ren’s destruction, and was still Light and pure and good.

It’s into this love Ben Solo reaches, the core of Light that had taken root in his heart decades ago. He pulls out the ember he’d kept hidden for so long, so bright and small that not even Snoke could snuff it out.

Poe Dameron had always been the spark inside Kylo Ren, waiting to burn away the darkness, and bring back hope. Even when he couldn’t see it.  

And it’s this flame that burns inside Ben Solo still today; it's this spark of love that he allows to blossom, until it eats away at the darkness that made him _Kylo Ren,_ until it consumes the fear and anger in his heart until he thinks there's enough space left for him to try to be a better man, for Poe, for his mother, for Rey, for the galaxy. 

Kylo Ren's time has ended.

_One must fall._

Ben Solo, son of Han and Leia, casts into the Light, wholly and selflessly for the first time in years, trying to fix what he has done. He places a hand over the wound on Rey’s stomach.

Enough people have suffered as a result of his selfishness.

The Light courses inside of him, travels through him, his body merely a conduit for peace and knowledge, for serenity and love. The Light pours through Ben Solo, and into Rey.

The beauty of it overwhelms him, the beauty in stitching broken pieces back together, muscles realigning, organs repairing, skin healing. He sees where she has been hurt, the places she’s been torn apart. He pulls it all back together, the threads of golden light stemming from Poe Dameron guiding him through it.

The power of the Light is undeniable, now, when he feels it heal the woman before him even as it transforms him.

He can see his new destiny.

Rey gasps for breath, spirit rushing back into her body once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (you can probably guess where I had once planned an evil cliffhanger)
> 
> ((still so nervous for this chapter, I've had this scene planned for so long))\
> 
>  
> 
> (((( also guys that coffeeshop AU is suddenly 14k words long with additional 6k words of potential epilogues -- I'm thinking a two-shot for the original story? would you want that tonight or tomorrow morning? let me knowowowowwowowo)
> 
> UPDATE: it's posted, "May the Froth Be With You" [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884990/chapters/31947858)


	41. The World Turned Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the war approaches.

“Rey?” Ben asks because Poe sure can’t fucking speak yet; twenty years later, and Ben finally talks first. He puts a large hand on her wrist. “Rey, can you say something?”

Her eyes are still closed, and Poe’s almost choking as he waits for her to open them. _She was gone for more than five minutes,_ the analytical-soldier part of his mind tells him. _The brain doesn’t just walk back from that._

It’s that fear that gets him talking, in the end. “Rey, baby,” he whispers, trembling hand coming to push hair off her forehead, streaked with grime and blood. “Sunshine, talk to me. Please sweetheart. Are you there?”

“’m back,” Rey says, her voice softer than a breeze coming off the hills of Saffalore.

“I’ll say,” Ben’s amused now. “Gave us quite the scare, scavenger.”

And Poe knows Rey’s back, because she manages to give Ben the rudest hand gesture he’s ever seen even with her eyes closed. “Switch off, Your Supremeness,” she groans, forehead wrinkling as she scrunches her nose. Poe can’t help it. He laughs, half-sobbing through it. He laughs because _she’s perfect, she’s here, she came back._

Her eyes open at the sound of his laugh, and his skin hums when they lock onto his. “I came back,” she repeats after him, smiling. He can still hear the not-so-distant conflict in the nearby forest but it can go to the hells for all he cares. A rancor couldn’t drag him from her side. Poe’s still kneeling in the dirt at her side, so it’s easy to lean down, frame her face in his hands, and rest his forehead against hers.

“You did,” he says, not caring that Ben can see him, not caring that he has his back to a man he was sure wanted them all dead an hour ago. “You came back to me.”

“’Course I did. I promised. You called for me. And I came back.” Rey whispers. Rey’s shaking like a newborn krugga, and her skin is a distant sort of cold. Poe wants to wrap her in his arms, just get the fuck off this planet and find a quiet place somewhere, anywhere in the galaxy where he can be sure her body will never be broken again.

“I love you,” Poe says, and it feels like a promise. He sits up so he’s still near her, but far away enough that he can see her beautiful face.

“Poe,” she says, voice still impossibly weak, hand hovering near his face. Her hazel eyes search his imploringly. “Poe, I need to ask you something.”

His heart slams in his chest from nerves. He can’t feel a damn thing from the Bond, his own head is too much a mess for him to really be able to discern someone else’s emotions right now. “Anything, sweetheart. Anything.”

Rey licks her lips nervously, and it’s like Ben Solo or this kriffing war doesn’t even exist. They’re the only people in the galaxy. “Will you marry me?”

Poe laughs, again. She always makes him laugh. “I already asked you that, Sunshine, and as I recall, you said yes.”

“Yeah, I know. Just, I came a long way – I’m pretty sure I was dead five minutes ago –so I could marry your dumb ass, and I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

“You’re impossible.” Poe kisses her, trying, and failing, not to get the ridiculous amount of tears still pouring from his eyes onto her face. “But yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Before they can say anything else, blaster fire ricochets off a relatively close tree, the sound of shattering bark rebounding into the clearing.

Ben clears his throat, and Poe sits up. Rey holds her hands out, and both men take one, helping her to sit up. Rey doesn’t even wince, just pats her stomach wonderingly. “Good work, Solo,” she smiles. “Met your grandmother, by the way.”

“You get to meet all the cool people,” Ben sighs dramatically. Rey slides her feet so her knees are bent and shifts as if she’s going to stand.

“Are you okay to get up?” Poe asks, hands flapping uselessly over her body, fretting like a mother porg.

Ben snorts as Rey gives him a dirty glare. “I’m fine, Poe. I’m pretty sure Ben fixed all the organs that were coming out of me.” Poe flinches because he knows the sight of her broken in half on the ground is burned into his brain with every other fucking horrible thing that’s been done to the woman he loves, the things he’s been forced to watch.

“Eh, most of them.” Ben stands up and offers Rey a hand. “But do people really need spleens?”

Rey accepts his offered hand and leaps to her feet. “Spleen?” She wrinkles her nose. “What a foul name.”

Poe’s staring at his fiancée and the man who’s looking and sounding more and more like his brother, easily the two most important people he’s ever had in his life. “Oh fuck,” he says. “You two are going to be a nightmare.”

A crashing noise, then at the edge of the clearing – a battalion of Stormtroopers are tearing through the trees towards them. Ben shrugs off his cowl, and it feels like something Poe would see in a holo-flick. Rey stands next to him, and summons her lightsaber to her hand once more.

Poe groans, and then he gets up to stand in between Rey and Ben, his future wife, and his oldest friend.

**

Poe draws his weapon, and Ben turns his crackling red lightsaber on. They’re going to have to make him a new one at the end of this.

“Stand down, Rebel scum!” shouts a Stormtrooper at the front.

“Can’t these guys get some new lines?” Poe asks, cocksure bravado coming back. The sound of it makes Rey smile. She sees the expression mirrored on Ben’s face.

“After you?” Ben asks Rey over Poe’s head, eyes twinkling.

“It’d be my pleasure,” Rey smirks. She taps Poe on the arm, not looking at him as she fixes her eyes on the oncoming enemy soldiers. “No dying, Dameron,” she commands him. “General’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am,” and she can hear the grin on his face as she activates her saber and sprints forward.

Gone is the pain of the last months; she feels lighter, happier, at peace. She deflects the initial blaster bolts with ease, switching in and out of the defensive forms Master Yoda had walked her through back on Dagobah.

“You can yield,” she offers the first Stormtrooper that comes near her blade. She already knows the answer, but she wants to ask every time, she wants to ask before she takes a life out of the Force. He’s cut down under the golden light of her weapon, and she wheels past it, feeling the energy that thrums under her skin pushing her easily through the wave of sadness born of his death.

Rey kills dozens of soldiers in the middle of the battalion, growing more aware of Ben at her back, and Poe dozens of yards away, providing effective cover behind a boulder. She pivots to strike down a trooper she senses over her shoulder, and she inexplicably wants to laugh as she sees Ben moving through Form III, Soresu.

“I know you’re out of practice, Solo,” she shouts at him even as she backflips over his head. “But Soresu isn’t really the offense we’re looking for.” Her feet hit the ground, soundless.

“This is what I meant, Rey,” and his grin is full and wide and easy, “You need a teacher – Djem So is too aggressive to maintain for long, especially when the enemy is using a blaster and not a lightsaber.” How he can sound so condescending in the middle of an all-out brawl is aggravating, if impressive.

“You underestimate my power, bantha brains,” Rey teases.

The Force shifts in the clearing, and it gets the attention of both warriors. They look over and see what had caused the disturbance: emerging from the battle haze amongst the trees are imposing, cloaked and masked figures, coming from every direction.

“The Knights of Ren,” Ben comments drily. “Fuck me.”

“I’m guessing they won’t be as easy to kill as these guys,” Rey says, plunging her saber through another trooper.

“Definitely not,” Ben’s humor is grim. “But if it’s any consolation, they probably want to see me dead more than you.”

“Oh yeah, I feel a lot better.”

 Rey’s head snaps to the side at a familiar voice cutting through the trees. “Fan out and protect the Jedi!” Finn barks, blaster rifle locked and ready, embedded in his shoulder.

“Protect Colonel Dameron!” Rey shouts back over the din of the battle.

Ben snorts. “Oh yeah, he’ll love that.” Three Knights of Ren sprint at them from different sides.

Rey rolls her eyes, and spins so she’s back to back with Ben. “Just like old times?”

“You’re on, little Jedi.” And it’s just like Snoke’s throne room: they pivot, duck, weave and lash out in a hypnotic harmony. Rey pivots to the side, as Ben spins around; she deflects the blaster bolt headed for them, while he cuts his lightsaber through the space her body had just occupied, cleaving an arm off a Knight, and then moving to remove his head.

They don’t have time to feel any sort of victory, as the other two Knights quickly engage them. It’s a blur of blocked strikes and rapid blows, crossed blades humming and snarling, gold on red, red on red. Rey tumbles forward, ducking into a low somersault, blade off, only to activate it with brutal ease, impaling a Knight on either end.

Ben slaps her on the back as they fall to the ground, already dead. “Five down, two to go,” Ben shouts. “Split up and take them?” The remaining Knights are on different ends of the clearing, cutting through Resistance soldiers with terrifying efficiency. Poe and Finn are still standing, which helps Rey focus a little more.

Even though the Bond is closed, Rey can feel a communal humming between her and her former enemy as they simultaneously jump into defending themselves against an onslaught of over-eager Stormtroopers.

“Agreed, Solo. And, don’t worry. I feel it too,” Rey says with a smile that shows all her teeth before she rears back to kick a Stormtrooper in the chest.

They sprint for their respective targets, but Rey moves through a larger congregation of troopers, which slows her down. She’s aware of Ben engaging the Knight across the battlefield, she’s aware of Finn skillfully shooting down enemy after enemy, and some thirty feet away from Finn, she’s aware of Poe –

Oh gods. _Poe._

He’s cornered by the Knight, who’s thrown him bodily into a tree. The Knight had taken it personally when Poe had shot him in the shoulder before he could finish playing with a young Resistance soldier, a girl who’s bleeding on the ground some distance away from them. Rey can feel the vibrations through the Bond; he’s concussed, at the very least.

Rey looks on in horror as Poe struggles to get to his feet, legs clearly not cooperating.

 _Get up, Colonel,_ she shouts into the Bond. _Get up, my love._

Poe blinks blood out of his eyes, hand groping on the ground next to him for his blaster. It’s too far away, and even if Rey nudges it towards him using the Force, it might not even stop the Knight if Poe can’t draw fast enough. She has one option, and she realizes it quickly upon seeing her best friend running towards the fallen pilot and the approaching Knight.

“Finn!” Rey shrieks. She throws her lightsaber across the clearing at him, and he snags it, dropping his own blaster to grip it properly.

Finn charges at the Knight, roaring “Get the fuck away from him!” The Knight spins on his back foot, away from Poe, and points his lightsaber at Finn. The ex-stormtrooper slides his feet into a defensive stance that Rey showed him during practice, and turns the lightsaber on. “It’s on, Vader wannabe.” Their sabers clash, and the Force hums around Finn, guiding his motions as steadily as it had guided her own on _Starkiller._

She prays for the Force to be with them. Poe isn’t dying today. Not when this is so close to being over.

Rey wrenches a blaster from a dead Stormtrooper and tries to provide as much cover as she can, ducking and weaving bolts of energy while she runs toward Finn, Poe, and the Knight.  

Ben slays the penultimate Knight, and then returns to cutting down Stormtroopers, but Rey can barely spare him a thread of attention, knowing he can handle himself. She needs to get to Poe, she needs to make sure he’s okay, she needs this fucking war to be over. Rey’s exhausted, but as always, it’s her love for Poe – the love so frowned upon by the Jedi of old – that pushes her forward, through the terror and the dread, and propels her through the battle.

Finn’s sweating as he dodges another vicious swing from the Knight. The dark-cloaked figure spreads his stance so his feet are far apart, and almost smugly readjusts his grip on his weapon. “Come on, Finn,” Rey calls out. “Just like we practiced!”

He definitely hears her. Finn throws himself forward, under the Knight’s legs, right after he throws the saber in the air over their heads. Rey tips the trajectory gently with her hand before shooting at an approaching Stormtrooper, so that it’s set to land perfectly in Finn’s hand when he rolls along the ground and back onto his feet.

The Force is with him; Finn catches it, just as she planned and hoped, and he activates the lightsaber without thinking, cleaving the Knight from neck to navel from behind.

“Well that was pretty fucking cool,” Poe comments, dazed. Rey throws herself the last couple yards, sliding to a stop next to his side.

“Only I get to die today, Colonel Dameron,” she scolds him, running her fingers along his temple, the back of his head. She finds the sore spot easily.

Ben approaches moments later, panting from his final sprint. “Is he,” he heaves, “is he okay?”

“The damsel in distress is fine,” Poe says, the intended sting not present in his concussed state. “And he can hear you.”

Rey kisses his forehead, trying to push the love she has for him, the ever-growing, impossible, transcendent love, through the Bond. He smiles in response, and hums, “love you too, Rey.”

Their relief is cut short by the approach of a new voice, ten yards to the west.

“Supreme Leader?”

A Captain, judging by the red covering on their shoulder, stands with reinforcements. Rey can sense that it’s the last the First Order has to offer in terms of ground forces. Above them, the final battleship screams to the ground.

“We yield,” Ben snarls. “It’s over. Tell your men now, Captain.”

The Captain barks orders into her comms, and one by one, Stormtroopers throw their weapons to the ground and raise their arms in the air in surrender.

“It’s over,” Rey whispers. Poe’s eyes blink open, and she cradles his head as she rains kisses down on his brow. “It’s over.”

Finn kneels next to them, hysterical with laughter. He leans forward, a hand on Poe’s opposite shoulder, and Rey comes to meet him, resting her forehead against his, as she feels Poe’s hands come to clutch at her own.

“Get down here,” her pilot orders. Ben looks unsure of himself, but Rey yanks him forward through the Force, smirking at Ben’s sputtered protests. “Oh, get used to it,” Poe says dreamily. “She’s bossy.”

“Is that so?” Rey laughs, too joyful to even pretend to be mad.

“It is so,” Poe’s eyes flutter shut in bliss, and not pain this time.

Ben’s hands find their way down to brace against Poe’s shin, Rey’s free shoulder. He startles when Finn grabs his arm and tugs him closer.

They sit in a tangle, the Force singing in contentment as the children of the New Republic begin to heal the wounds of the Old.

***

A few hours later, after initial clean-up and processing of prisoners has begun, Rey and Ben stand in the corner of a large platform, awaiting the arrival of the commanding officers of the Resistance. Poe is down with a Medical Officer, resting with a bacta-patch to clear his head injury.

“Thank you,” Rey says to her friend – and it’s so easy to say now, _friend—_ who she hopes will become a Jedi once more. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“It was an easy choice, in the end,” Ben says. “You were right.”

“What will you do now?” Rey asks him softly. She fights the urge to hold his hand; she’d mean it in a spirit of friendship, but things are so fragile between the three of them right now, and she doesn’t want to threaten that.

“I surrender,” Ben answers solemnly. “And hope that whatever they decide to do with me can begin to provide recompense for what I’ve done.”

“Okay,” Rey nods, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. “Okay.” _I’ll be there for you,_ she wants to tell him. _You won’t be alone._

They stand in silence, working towards peace.

***

When the envoy of Generals and Admirals arrives, Ben stands two dozen feet in front of the collected captains and commanders of the First Order. Rey stands at his side, and Poe and Finn stand directly behind them.

General Replinsk comes down the ramp first, and then Admiral Murrin. The latter smiles at Rey, her face briefly betraying the exhilaration of winning the battle, before she settles back into stately self-control.

General Organa walks down last, and stands behind the other two officers.

Rey nudges Ben, who looks like a frightened Lotho. He clears his throat, lifts his chin, and addresses the three leaders in a clear voice that lacks pride or condescension.  

“I submit to the will of the Resistance,” Ben says. “I am at your mercy, and will accept whatever punishment you see fit.” He hands his lightsaber to Rey, who takes it and wills every bit of strength she has left to him, so he can be strong now. He walks forward to the ramp where Leia Organa stands, hands clasped over her cane. He stands and looks her in the face for the first time in almost a decade.

“Mother,” Ben whispers.

Leia looks at her son, eyes limpid with fathomless emotion.

Rey’s probably still a little distracted from the whole dying thing because she doesn’t feel it coming in the Force.

Leia raises a blaster and shoots her son in the chest.

“No!” Rey screams, moving forward to Ben’s crumpled body.

 Poe grabs her by the elbow and tries to tug her back, saying, “Hold on, Rey,” and Rey’s clawing, spitting, ready to fight to Ben’s side. _How could she?_

“Calm down, General,” Leia tells her while regarding her son’s form coolly. “It was set to stun.”

“Oh.” Rey relaxes in Poe’s grip. She feels her love pull her to him, so his chest is pressed against her back, which is good because her legs are threatening to give out. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yes,” Leia smiles at her, although the expression looks difficult to maintain. “Oh, indeed.”

**

The transport ship carrying General Organa and her son takes off for base, and Poe’s holding Rey under the light of the Endor stars. “Now what?” Rey asks him, nuzzling into his chest. He still can’t believe she’s alive, that they made it through. The forest is becoming still once more, the signs and scars of the battle scoring the ground and the trees in a way that promises to live on well past the soldiers’ lifetimes.

“Now we get back to base, sit in on Ben’s trial, visit the refresher,” and he relishes the feeling of her giggling into his collarbone, “Okay, maybe more than one visit to the ‘fresher, because I’ll probably be too busy touching you to really get clean myself, and then eventually we go around the galaxy and try to figure out how to help it.”

“And we get married somewhere in there?” Her voice is hopeful, and scratchy from exhaustion.

Poe laughs, full and carefree, even though there’s still so much they need to do. “Name the day, Sunshine.” He pauses, briefly, his chin on her head. “Personally, today works for me.”

Rey hums as her response, somehow half-asleep while standing up, cradled in his arms on the slowly settling Forest moon.

Poe doesn’t mind. He waited thirty years for her. He can wait a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes that's a Hamilton reference in the chapter title)


	42. The Trial of Ben Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and the crew arrive back at base; Ben's future is uncertain

Poe has to let go of Rey long enough for her to board a transport back to base. She laughs at his forlorn expression while she walks backward up the ramp. “I’ll see you in an hour, Colonel!” She calls down to him.

 _An hour too long,_ he tells her, and it’s true. He doesn’t want her out of his sight ever again. But he gets back into Knight One and follows Rey’s ship into Hyperspace, relishing the open feeling of the Bond.

He tries his hardest not to think about the empty space that he was met with when she. When she.

Poe grits his teeth and wills the damn ship to fly faster.

 _I’m fine, Colonel,_ Rey speaks into the Bond. _Just sitting, safely, on a transport. All friendlies here._ Poe smiles at her reassurance, and breathes deeply to calm himself further. _Finn says hi, by the way. And also “you owe him for saving your ass.”_

“He’s an ass,” Poe mutters. He’s hit with an image of Finn making a horrendous face at him through Rey.

_I told him you said “thank you,” and he didn’t believe me._

***

 Poe grabs Rey by the hand and drags her away from the debrief the millisecond it's over. She follows him, laughing, and it's such a clear, lovely, unburdened noise that he wants to wrap himself in it and drift in her joy for years, for a lifetime.

He has other plans, though. When they arrive at their room, Rey's still laughing, but now she's laughing at the disarray they left it in. "And I thought you were a military man," she scolds him, one of her feet kicking at the dress they'd left on the floor. 

"Rey," he whispers her name, and it gets her attention quickly. 

"Poe," her answering smile warms him from several feet away. 

"Sunshine," Poe walks forward until he's right in front of her. "You died today, Sunshine." Rey sobers quickly at that.

"I did," she takes his hand, and kisses his knuckles so tenderly his stomach flips. "But I came back."

"You always do," he laughs. Poe isn't sure who moves in first, but soon they're kissing, lazy and unhurried. She's alive, and they're together, and nothing can touch them now.  _We won,_ he thinks dazedly as she pulls back to smile at him.

“We won,” she laughs, clearly not believing it either. “We really won.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he steps in so he can feel every inch of her against him. “We did.” He kisses her with more urgency this time, hands sliding up her body and into her hair. He groans when she bites his lip just hard enough to sting.

“You said something about the ‘fresher?” Rey asks, batting her large eyes up at him. And he’s a goner, because he always is for her.

(And he was absolutely right, he does need to use it twice: once to explore Rey, and once to actually get clean after what they get up to in the quiet warmth of their bed). 

**

Finn, Rose, Rey, and Poe sit in the mess hall the next day. Finn is dropping kisses into Rose’s hair like drops of rain. Rose is rolling her eyes at him, but she blushes all the same. Poe’s got a holonovel in front of him, but he’s only pretending to skim through it; Rey can feel his eyes on her profile while she eats, his joy at seeing her enthusiastically consume eggs-and-nutriflakes not even tempered by a shadow of his former disgust for the combination.

It feels so normal, Rey could cry.

But there’s someone missing from the group, someone she’s been worried about since she watched him disappear yesterday.

“When do you think they’ll let me talk to Ben?” She asks, stabbing another chunk of egg. Poe stiffens next to her.

“Uhm,” Rose says softly.

“I assume he’s woken up by now,” Rey continues, eyes flitting worriedly from face to face. Finn looks tired, Rose looks guilty, and Poe looks devastated. “What?” She demands, beyond worried now. “What aren’t you telling me? Is he sick? Is he off-base?”

“He’s here,” Rose admits.

Poe is suddenly frozen and doesn’t say anything.

“So? Why can’t I see him?”

“They’re going to execute him, Rey.” Finn looks like he regrets having to share the news.

**

Poe doesn't need the Bond to know that Rey isn't taking that very well.

**

Ben wakes up in a holding cell. Cell is honestly an unfair word; it’s a room, sparsely decorated with a bed that comes out of the wall and soft lights. There’s even a ‘fresher, so he assumes they aren’t worried about him killing himself.

What he isn’t thrilled about, or surprised by, are the metallic cuffs around his wrists. He realizes that they’re very similar to the ones used on _Sidious,_ manacles designed to cut off a Force-user’s connection to their abilities.

When a soldier brings in food for him, Ben thanks him as politely as possible.

“Do you mind telling me what the Resistance plans to do with me?” He asks, hoping that it sounds curious and not sarcastic.

“The plan is to execute you next week,” the soldier has the decency to look conflicted about it, at least.

“Ah.” Ben nods. “Thank you.” 

He sits alone for what must be hours, until he hears banging from the outside of the room.

“You can’t go in there, ma’am, I’m sorry,” a man’s muffled voice shouts before the door flies open.

Rey stands in the opening breathing erratically, hair wild around her face.

“Ben!” She tears into the room and starts frantically patting him down. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if this was part of whatever punishment the Resistance wanted to give him; he hasn’t been touched this much in years, especially by a pretty girl. Ben wills himself to breathe deeply. Rey isn’t his. He’s learned that much.

“Are you okay?” Rey steps back and wraps her arms around her thin frame. Ben smiles at her, pleased to see color in her cheeks. Now they’re not locked in a dance with Fate, he can fully appreciate the extra muscle she’s added onto her figure in the last month. _Healthy,_ he thinks. _She looks healthy._ She also looks incredibly upset, and he should probably do something about that.

“I’m okay,” he looks around. “Definitely a step down from my bedroom on _Vader II,_ though.”

Rey wipes at her eyes and laughs. “ I’m sure I can convince them to let you paint the walls black,” she tells him, and he can’t help but laugh too.

“I’m not really feeling that color scheme anymore, scavenger,” Ben tells her affectionately. Instead of making her laugh more, which is what he was hoping for, she looks like he ripped her entire life out from underneath her. Tears well in her expressive eyes as she begins to sob.

“Tell me I didn’t drag you back into the Light just to watch you die.” The girl he spent a year fixated on is crying over him, and he’s helpless from it. He recalls a distant memory of Han holding Leia – and even then he’d understood it was more for his benefit than hers – and it’s that memory that encourages him to hold out his arms for her.

Rey steps under his cuffed hands, into his embrace, and she cries into his shirt. “I don’t want to lose you. I don't want to lose my friend.”

The word doesn’t wound him at all. _Friend._ It’s more than he deserves.

“You won’t lose me, Rey.” He’s so rarely used her name, and he regrets that, just another regret on a list longer than this arm of the galaxy. “All things are together in the Force.” It only makes her cry harder. Ben feels his own tears start to form at the thought of leaving her, when they still have so much to do.

Ben Solo holds Rey in his arms for the first time, and it’s nothing like he had imagined.

And it means that much more for it.

**

Rey convinces them to at least hold a trial; it takes almost a month to prepare. Ben Solo sits in his cell without human company the entire time; one of the conditions was that Rey not be allowed to talk to him.

“He can’t Jedi mind trick me,” Rey snapped mulishly when they informed her of the condition. “He can’t use the Force, for fuck’s sake.” Poe had tried to kiss her forehead to calm her down, and she’s sure it’s the first time she pulled away from him out of anger.

They fought for four hours after, and both had apologized at the same time. Rey wasn’t aware that sex was something people did after arguments, but she certainly didn’t complain at the marathon session the fight inspired.

Eventually, it’s the day of the trial, and Rey sits on the gathered council, a collection of Resistance leaders who will decide the fate of Ben Solo.

Poe sits in the selected audience. The council is sitting in a half circle of seats; Ben Solo is led in, in Force-blocking shackles, and is placed in a chair against the wall, facing the stone-faced judges.

Witnesses are called in one by one, and Rey cries more than once at the growing list of crimes Ben Solo stands accused of.

 _Patricide._ The council decides that one together, after Leia’s testimony.

 _Genocide._ Ben flinches particularly at that one, delivered by a survivor of the Hosnian Cataclysm. Rey rises out of her seat, asking the council to remember that he wasn’t the one to call for the destruction of those people – she’s told to sit down by Leia, who firmly reminds her that she was in the middle of being kidnapped by Kylo Ren when the destruction took place.

 _Kidnapping._ Added to the list, despite Rey’s protests. At this rate, she’ll be asked to leave the room.

_Terrorism._

_Murder._

There are multiple eye-witness accounts from the destruction of the village on Jakku, more than one of which comes from Stormtroopers seeking a reduced sentence. In the Bond, Poe releases a ripple of nausea as he remembers the slaughter of Lor San Tekka.

Every witness is asked to relay what they think an appropriate punishment would be; Rey takes heart in the fact that very few ask for execution. Most ask for life imprisonment. They can work with that.

Finally, General Replinsk calls out “Captian Finn of the Resistance Army.”

Rey stiffens in her seat when her best friend walks through the doors and comes to stand in front of the council. Poe sits taller in his seat, looking worried. _It’ll be okay, sweetheart._

It doesn’t start well. Finn recounts how he was stolen from his parents as a child, forced to become a soldier for the First Order, trained to become a weapon and not a human being. He recounts the terrifying moment when Kylo Ren carried his best friend onto a ship and stole her away to _Starkiller;_ he recalls seeing Poe Dameron bloodied, beaten, strapped to a chair and almost out of his mind post-interrogation.

Rey tries not to vomit at the image.

“And what is your suggestion for his punishment, Captain Finn?” General Leia asks him.

Finn thinks, briefly. “Forgiveness.”

There’s a murmur among the council; the crowd behind Finn is dead silent. “Explain your reasoning.” Vice Admiral Premtak commands.

“You forgave me, a Stormtrooper,” Finn shrugs with one shoulder, “Because you understood that I was forced into it. And from what I heard, the galaxy really did a number on the guy. Do I like him? No. But he did save one of my best friends.”

“And the name of that friend is?” Admiral Murrin prods him sternly but still kindly.

“Poe Dameron.”

There’s muttering in the crowd, and Poe leans forward, a crease in his brow.

Murrin clears her throat and the crowd settles back down. “I read the debrief of the final battle, Finn. And from what I remember, it was your actions that saved Colonel Dameron’s life that day.”

Finn admits, “Yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” He looks down, and Rey stares at him trying to read his emotions. It’s like hitting a solid duracrete wall. Finn’s growing stronger with the Force every day, and It’s blocking his thoughts from her now. “More than a year ago, Poe Dameron and I went on a reconnaissance mission to the Outer Rim in an attempt to gain intel on a First Order initiative.” Rey’s pretty sure the entire room is holding its breath, waiting for Finn to explain himself further.

“The First Order was testing bio-terrorist weapons on the poor. It was horrible,” and Finn shivers, looking ill, “and on one planet where they’d just gassed an entire village, we ran into the Supreme Leader.” More than one head turns to Ben, who sits in his chair looking very much like he wants to sink into the floor. The shackles on his wrist stop him from hiding his face: Rey doesn’t need the Force to know that's exactly what he wants to do. “He had no idea we could hear him. From his reaction, it was clear that he had no idea what the First Order had been doing. Kylo Ren had no hand in the harm of those innocent people; while he’s committed other, similar crimes, he can’t be charged with that one.”

Rey loves Finn, very much.

 “Kylo discovered us hiding in the woods. Poe had taken on a large amount of the bio-weapon, and was dying, quickly. He was seconds away from his lungs collapsing,” and Rey’s own lungs hurt, over a year later, because she was so close to losing Poe before she ever really had him, “and Kylo Ren found us. But instead of hurting us, he was…not kind, really. More concerned. He injected Colonel Dameron with an antidote, and he was almost good as new a few hours later. Kylo – Ben – asked me not to tell anyone.”

Finn shifts his feet, looking conflicted even now. “And I didn’t tell anyone because Colonel Dameron was fine. Kylo Ren – sorry, Ben Solo – saved his life that day and let us go free. And… and when I asked, he told me why he’d saved Poe.”

“Why was that?” Vice Admiral W’’lor presses.

Finn looks over his shoulder at Ben, who looks anywhere but back at the ex-stormtrooper. Finn faces the council once more, and he looks calm, certain of himself when he says: “He told me that he saved Poe because a boy Kylo killed a long time ago had loved him. He was talking about himself.”

Rey grips the table. _Why hadn’t either of them told her this?_

 _You’re asking me, sweetheart._ Poe looks ashen-faced in his seat across the court.

“So yeah,” Finn stands his ground proudly. “Yeah, I recommend forgiveness. We can't just fight or destroy what we hate and pretend that it's going to save what we love.”

“Thank you for your testimony, Captain Finn,” Leia dismisses him with a wave of her hand. Finn walks out of the room while looking at Rey, mouthing “I’m sorry,” before disappearing from sight.

Rey’s up next, and she leans into the comfort Poe pushes towards her. She smiles, tight-lipped, at Ben before she turns to take her place.

“General Rey,” Admiral Murrin begins.

“Sorry,” Rey interrupts. “But it’s Master. The war is over. I do not wish to be a soldier.”

The older woman nods, readjusts her robe, and then continues. “Very well, then, Master Rey. What do you recommend we do with Ben Solo, whose crimes are so many?”

Rey bites her lip, considers it. “What would we seek in payment? Vengeance? Blood? Would that bring your loved ones back?” She shakes her head. “No. It is my opinion, as the last of the Jedi, that the Force has a different path for Ben Solo.” There are many in the audience who feel angry at her proclamation, and Rey doesn’t wait for prompting from a High Council member to continue.

“And why should we seek to harm Ben Solo for the crimes of Kylo Ren?” She demands, ignoring an outraged cry from the back of the room. Let them hate her. She has no need for them. She can sense Poe on the other end of the Bond – his opinion is one of the few that matters to her, and he already knew how she felt about this. “He was forced to become that—that— _monster._ ” Rey settles on the old, familiar word, and sticks her chin out in defiance. “Snoke called to him as a child, twisted his mind. He took a young, impressionable boy and sold him cruelties and lies, and drove a wedge between him and all his loved ones.”

“Ben struggled with the Dark for as long as he could, but no one was able to help him. He was cruelly separated from his best friend, his brother. His father left; his mother sent him away.” Rey barely bats an eye at how Leia winces. She needs to hear this. They all need to hear the truth.

“His master, his own _uncle_ tried to murder him,” Rey spits out. And it doesn’t matter how many peaceful conversations she has with Luke’s Force Ghost, she will never forgive him for that. “That’s the day Ben Solo lost his battle. That’s the day he became Kylo Ren. His uncle tried to kill him in his sleep because he feared his choice was already made.” And Rey can _feel_ Leia’s heart break in the Force, feel the rippling aftershock of it, the horror that her twin could hurt her son like that.

“Ben Solo lost the battle with Kylo Ren when he was a young man, but he would go on to fight a war. In our life, we are faced with many choices. Very few of them are easy; some are impossible. Ben Solo fought against his destiny, his darkness for as long as he could; he chooses to fight even now. Our biggest mistake is assuming our choices, once made, are made forever. There should always be a way back to the Light.” And she directs this at Poe, swallowing against the emotion in her throat as she thinks of her golden, sweet pilot whose Force signature vibrates with the energy of the Tree that had loved him, the Tree that had asked him to help them all make their choices.

“The Jedi have fallen time and again in history. What message does it send that the only way back in the past has been through a self-sacrifice in death?” Leia’s eyes are locked on hers now, and Rey does not stop. “Ben Solo cannot be totally free of consequence, but neither should we judge him with extreme prejudice today. He made a choice, and we cannot fail him again. We cannot allow him to turn back to Darkness, nor we can we allow him to turn his back on his calling to the Light. We should allow Ben Solo to live, so that he can begin to repair what he has damaged. Allow him to serve the galaxy, and create a new destiny.” Rey has never said this many words in front of so many people. Her neck burns from the strain of it, and she wishes to be back in the room she shares with the man she loves, wrapped in his arms. But she needs to see this through.

“You asked for my opinion as a Jedi, and I have given it to you.” Rey starts forward back to her chair, but thinks to add, “May the Force be with you.”

She sinks back into her seat as soon as she can, and she catches Ben’s eye from across the room. He looks stricken, grateful, and a thousand other things she doesn’t care to name.

 _Quite the speech, Sunshine,_ Poe says to her. When she shifts to look at him, he’s smiling at her, a real, soft smile. _Let’s hope he deserves it._

***

The Council debates, louder and louder, for close to an hour.

A small woman with the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders stands up and taps her cane once on the stone floor. That’s all it takes for the room to settle, a palpable hush descending over every person present.

“I think I have a solution,” Leia speaks into the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close now!!! Thank you for sticking with me -- lots of fluff/smut in the final chapters (angst is mostly over now)
> 
> Ch. 43 is going to be a little shorter than normal; Ch. 44 is going to be something I think will make your Friday cheerful ;)
> 
> And 45 is the Epilogue 
> 
>  
> 
> (and then it will be over, and I will be sad).


	43. A New Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo departs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than usual because it's more just wrapping up a narrative thread, but I hope you still like it! 
> 
> (warning: mild smut/references to past oral sex during the final meeting scene/Poe POV b/c they're both terrible at behaving during meetings)

Leia’s plan is simple, and more merciful than Rey could have hoped for.

“Two years in exile,” General Organa declares. “He will be constantly monitored, and he will be made to visit the planets ravaged by the evils of the First Order, using his considerable abilities to heal the wounds they caused. Ben Solo will report directly to Master Rey of the Jedi Order, and at the end of the two-year term, if he has completed the necessary service with humility and proper dedication, she will decide if he can return to the Jedi, and return to us once more. May she be wise in her judgment.”

But that means…

Rey can feel Poe stiffen. _You’re going to be traveling the galaxy with **him** for two years?_

She can’t believe it either. Rey was supposed to marry Poe, they were supposed to start their life together. She’ll serve the galaxy if she has to, and she does want the best for Ben. But, she can’t ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Luckily,” and Leia eyes both Poe and Rey with a deep-seated humor, “Master Rey is strong with the Force, and the two have demonstrated a strong connection maintained over large distances in the past. Ben Solo’s term will be completed in solitude, but he will allow Rey a weekly conversation at an agreed upon time, where he will submit to an examination of conscience and update her on his progress.”

Rey cringes because even though this means she won’t have to leave Poe’s side, she’s unhappy with the idea of performing such an invasive intrusion. Rey isn’t sure how she feels about the idea in general; she just got Kylo Ren out of her head, and now she has to forge a similar link to Ben Solo’s mind.

“Ben will agree to regular in-person meetings, at Master Rey’s discretion,” Leia adds. “And in those meetings, they will work on matters of the Force, so they can begin to rebuild the Jedi Order.” Right. Ben Solo is the last strong connection Rey has to the former Jedi Order, and he's the only person who matches her passion for reforming it. They have a duty to the galaxy, and to each other. 

She isn’t sure if she can do this, but she will if the galaxy needs her to. If Ben needs her to.

The Council votes and the decision barely passes, but it passes.

Ben Solo will seek forgiveness, and he will do it with Rey’s help.

***

When they go to the hangar bay to see Ben Solo off, Finn slaps him on the shoulder first. “Let’s not talk for a while, yeah?” The statement is undercut by the wide grin Finn gives him.

“That’s acceptable to me, Captain.” Ben smiles back. “And thank you, for defending me.” His scarred face is open, earnest.

Finn shifts awkwardly before smiling again. “Don’t thank me, Solo. Just try to earn it.” He grabs Rose’s hand, leading her away from the ship and its once and future pilot. Rose waves lightly over her shoulder at Ben, smiling sweetly but shyly. Rey secretly hopes that they become friends in the future; their respective humors will be a good balance for the other.

Poe’s next – Leia had said her goodbyes to her son privately; both had emerged from the conference room red-eyed but smiling, and had even hugged in front of a dozen other people – and he stands in front of Ben, regarding him closely.

Her pilot settles on, “Don’t disappear again.” Ben laughs and nods. Poe says, “I mean it, Solo. Don’t fucking – just don’t. If I send you a message, respond. If I show up at your door, answer it. If you feel the urge to be an asshole again – don’t.”

Ben isn’t smiling anymore. “I won’t,” he promises. “I won’t leave you again.”

“Good,” Poe says, swallowing hard, and Rey can feel the tension through the Bond. “Because I want my brother back, and for that to happen, you need to stick around.”

Poe sticks his hand out and they shake hands. They don’t hug – they aren’t ready for that yet – but it’s a start, and it makes Rey feel warm.

~

She hadn’t expected Poe to forgive Ben. He’d struggled with it for weeks, and she assumed it was because of the brutal interrogation he suffered on the Finalizer. When she convinced him to open up to her, she was slightly surprised that he’d already let that go. _I think it opened me up more to the Force in general,_ he admitted to her. _I think it made our Bond possible. And it was awful, and I still can’t think about it without sweating, but this connection we have is worth any price._ And Rey had wanted to cry. She really had cried when Poe admitted that he couldn’t forgive Ben for hurting _her_.

“I close my eyes, and I see the bruises on your throat sometimes,” he whispered, fists clenched and facing away from her. “I can see every fucking foul thing the First Order did to you, and it makes me so angry, I want to burn it all down again.”

“It was Kylo,” she had argued with him. “Kylo choked me, Kylo hurt me, Kylo was First Order. Not Ben.” It was another long fight, one that ended with Poe in tears, Rey holding him, reminding him that she was fine, she was here, she was alive.  

~

Poe has denied there being a real difference between Ben and Kylo for so long, and that’s why Rey’s surprised that he’s building this bridge for Ben to cross now.

 _It’s for you,_ Poe says to her, having let go of Ben’s hand here in the present. _He’s important to you. And I love him, still. I can’t just walk away from that._

Rey loves Poe, so impossibly much. Poe, who has every right to be angry, who has every right to seek justice from the many cruelties stacked at his feet, is still so kind and forgiving. It’s not very Jedi Master of her, but she doesn’t really think any of them deserve it.

“Bye, Ben.” He turns away from his old friend. Poe kisses Rey on the cheek on the way past her. “I’m going to leave you two alone,” he tells both of them. _If he’s rude, try not to throw him in a trash compactor._ His head tilts as he begins to walk away. _Well. Maybe just for a few minutes._ Rey snorts, and then Poe’s gone.

It’s just her and Ben.

“I guess this is goodbye, for now,” Rey tries to smile, but she feels sad. There’s an eternity of space between them, and she’s unsure if the next two years will do anything to heal it, even with their planned conversations.

“It would appear so,” Ben’s answering smile is equally unsure. “Rey—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Never mind, you don’t want me to ask that.”

“You can ask.” She means it. There’s no reason for them to lie to each other anymore. Not when they need to work together, when they need to figure out a way to make sure the Force is never out of balance again, at least in their lifetimes.

“Do you think…” he fidgets with his hands. “And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to change your mind because you made your choice a long time ago, and it’s clearly the right choice.” He bites his lip, debating. When Rey nods, encouraging him to continue, he says, “Do you think, if I had never fallen, if I had stayed a Jedi – do you think you could have loved me, if we had been given that choice?”

Rey’s stomach hurts at the idea. She can see the image that Kylo Ren had shoved in her mind, the picture of her as Rey Solo, with a smiling, happy child on her hip and all the love in the world in her eyes for her tall, funny husband. Rey considers his question against that image and against the strong feelings she’d had for him over a year and a half ago, before Crait.

“Yes,” she admits. “Yes, I think I could have loved you, like that.” Ben looks like he’s been stabbed. “But so much happened, Ben,” and she needs him to understand, “so much happened to make sure that future wasn’t possible, and it wasn’t just on your end.” She shakes her head.

“I could have chosen a future with you. Before you made your choice in Snoke’s throne room, I honestly thought it was what the Force wanted.”

There’s still more she needs to say, more that he needs to understand, so she says, “Ben – I don’t want to hurt you for saying any of this, but my future with Poe isn’t a choice I made. I don’t think loving Poe is a choice. I just don’t. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, loving him.”

“I don’t want you take this the wrong way, Rey,” Ben frowns slightly, and then smiles, shy and unsure. “But I think you’re the only woman I’m ever going to love.”

“Oh Ben,” and Rey isn’t upset, more anguished. He shakes his head earnestly at the conflict on her face.

“I just mean that – I loved you, and it helped bring me back. So, thank you. But I love Poe too, like a brother, and I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember, and I don’t want to get in the way.” He sighs, closes his eyes, and squeezes his nose between his long fingers.  “Gods, there’s no good fucking way to say this.”

Ben looks like someone kicked him in the stomach when he says, “I loved you, but I wanted to own you. You were absolutely right when you told me that. And I’m sorry. You deserve better. You deserve someone who sees you as a person, someone who would never hurt you. I’m happy to be in your life, Rey, and I love you, but I don’t love you like I did before. I think a lot of that was Kylo, and a lot of that was me worshipping the idea of someone so good and in the Light, who was so powerful and full of potential.” The Former Supreme Leader is so hopelessly awkward, and Rey’s affection for him only increases. They both turn and face the ship he’s about to board.

Ben nudges her with his arm as they stand in the shadow of his father’s ship. “Poe is a good man,” he acknowledges almost solemnly. “And I hope he gives you all the happiness I never could.”

Rey nods, understanding him even though his words are tripping against each other. “Thank you,” she smiles up at him. “He does make me happy. And I really do hope you find someone who makes you as happy as Poe makes me.”

Ben throws back his head, glorious waves of hair tossing behind him as he laughs self-consciously. “That’s kind of you, scavenger, but that’s what I was trying to say. You’re the only woman I’m ever going to love, because I don’t think I’ll be pursuing that sort of thing.” He pauses and waggles his eyebrows at her so she knows he’s trying to be lighthearted. She can’t reconcile this kind man with the monster who hunted her. “I think maybe it’s for the best if the Skywalkers stop reproducing.”

“A fair assessment, I’d wager.” They exchange equally wide grins. Ben clears his throat and eyes the entrance to the ship.

“No, no, the council was definitely right. I think I need to be alone for a while.” Ben turns his head to smile at her and then begins to ascend the walkway onto the Millennium Falcon.

“You’re not alone, Ben,” Rey calls at his retreating back. “Not really.”

“At least Chewbacca agreed to let me use this piece of junk,” Ben shouts back down at her without turning around.

He does turn when he reaches the end of the ramp, and he rests his hand on the panel that controls the door. Ben Solo grins, wide and free and ready to help the galaxy recover from his sins, and the sins of his family.

Rey blinks, and that’s when she sees it.

Anakin and Luke Skywalker stand at his shoulders, flickering signatures of the men that should have been there for Ben Solo when he was a child, who now have a chance to make things right, to correct the wrongs they caused. They have a chance now, a chance to recreate the Skywalker legacy, so it is no longer one written in pain and loss and destruction.

The door closes. The last thing she sees is a family finally ready to heal.

**

Rey threads her hand through Poe’s at a meeting two weeks after Ben Solo’s departure.

She grins over at him, lazy and self-satisfied, and he can’t fucking think straight, can’t think about restorative plant growth on Outer Rim planets aversely affected by the First Order’s tyranny, which is a shame because obviously it’s important, and he would give it his entire focus if he could.

But he can’t focus, not since Rey woke him up, lying between his legs under the covers, mouth working at him before he was even fully awake. She drew him along on edge for what felt like hours, and he’d been a pleading, begging mess by the end. He almost sobbed telling her how much he loved her, how pretty she looked, how perfect she was, and Rey smiled like the damn Tooka that got the Ghoral-bird before doing _something_ with her fingers that had him arching off the bed and screaming her name.

Poe fairly whimpered when she swallowed and pressed sharp kisses into his thigh, and he’d actually given a strangled yelp of protest when she sprung up suddenly from the bed, fully clothed.

“Meeting in ten minutes, Colonel,” she chirped, flouncing out the door before he could reciprocate.

So naturally, reciprocation is all he can think about now during an important briefing led by Leia Organa.

It’s a little shameful, honestly, how he’s telegraphing the image of her body, the way it looks when he’s got his head buried between her thighs. He should be ashamed to stand in his officer’s uniform, pretending to pay attention while he whispers to Rey through the Bond how good she’ll taste on his tongue as soon as he gets her alone. But Poe’s got a one-track mind right now, and he has half a mind to pull her in a supply closet that he might happen to know is only a 28-second walk from Central Command, and he’s telling her _and that’s when I’ll make you turn around, press you against the wall, get down on my knees, and show you just how much I want you and –_

“—which should be by the end of the month, and _honestly,_ Colonel Dameron, are we keeping you from something?”

Poe snaps out of his aggressive daydream so fast, he’s worried his neck might actually break.

“No ma’am,” is his immediate, embarrassed response. Rey stands primly next to him, red ears the only sign that she’s at all ruffled by what he’s been teasing her with.

“I know you’re smitten with Rey, Colonel, the whole base does. But please do remember that not all of us want to be present for your honeymoon phase.”

Poe winces. “Yes ma’am.”

“Speaking of honeymoons,” Admiral Murrin, who’s always shown a strange but appreciated favoritism to the pair, “When are you two finally going to settle down?”

And while Rey managed to sit through the fucking pornography he was blasting in the Bond, it’s that question that makes her blush so hard Poe swears he can feel the heat radiating off of her.

“As soon as possible,” Poe admits, knowing from their connection that Rey agrees.

“So, next week?” Murrin presses, looking gleeful. Most of the other officers, even the ones that Poe swears hate him, look equally interested. Another side effect of being engaged to the most lovable person in the galaxy – rising wind lifts all ships, and all that.

Poe shrugs. “We don’t really have a date yet.” There’s been too much going on for them to decide on the proper day, but Poe hadn’t been kidding back on Endor’s Forest Moon when he said that day worked for him. Every day works for him. Hells, he’d marry her in front of the officers, right here, if she let him.

 _Maybe we should invite Rose and Finn, at least,_ Rey teases him. He pretends to roll his eyes, but he agrees.

“We could broadcast it,” General Replinsk is thinking aloud. Poe does not like that idea, and neither does Rey, who balks immediately. “A grand affair to show the burgeoning hope of the new era.”

“No,” Rey’s firm but sad. “I don’t want that.”

“She’s right,” Poe agrees with her, tightening his hand around hers. “Our wedding won’t be propaganda. We’ve given enough to the galaxy.”

The general nods, looking displeased, and Murrin steps in to steer the meeting back to the original topic.

The meeting finally fucking ends, and Poe begins to follow Rey out the door, intending to make good on his promise when Leia calls him over.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promises Rey, not missing how she flinches at the phrase.

 _Sorry,_ she says. _It’s just…that’s what you said when…_ Sheer agony cuts through the Bond along with the image of a vision, where his heartbroken face pressed against the window of an escape pod as he said his goodbyes. Oh.

 _I love you,_ he tells her fiercely. _I love you, and I’m going to marry you as soon as possible. And we will never be parted again._ Rey squeezes his hand and lets go.

“See you soon, Dameron,” she says aloud. “Don’t get into any more trouble with the General.”

“I probably will,” he answers.

Soon the room is empty, and only he and Leia remain.

“Are you sure you don’t want a big wedding?” Leia asks him. Poe releases the large breath he was holding – this is easier to talk about than apologizing for thinking about sex, _loudly_ , during a meeting. “We could give you a large affair, a party big enough for the whole galaxy.”

“No,” Poe shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry Leia. I don’t think that’s right for us. We just want to get married, with just us and the people we care about there.”

“It was worth a shot,” Leia shrugs at him. “I know Replinsk, at least, wanted to use you for a political advantage, but I’ll admit, I wanted Rey to have the wedding of a princess.” The general laughs softly. “She deserves it. You both do.”

“Thanks, Leia. But I don’t think that's the kind of thing Rey cares about.” Poe smiles at her, feeling decades worth of affection for the older woman. He wants to treat Rey like a princess too, but he knows she’s so much more than a princess, just like Leia was so much more than that. To be fair, while he leans towards a more private ceremony, he doesn’t particularly care about the particulars of their wedding. He just wants Rey, in a pretty dress, wearing his ring, taking his name. Everything else will fade away, but that’s what he cares about.

Leia nods. “What did you have in mind? Because judging by your inability to stay out of your room for more than two hours at a time, I’d say you’re more than ready to seal the deal. So, what do you want to do?”

Poe grins. He knows exactly what he wants to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's right, Ch. 44 is /exactly what you think it's going to be/ (excited screaming)
> 
> I'm writing a chapter for May the Froth Be With You tonight, but I'll try to finish up Ch. 44 at the same time. It will be published either today or tomorrow, and the epilogue is already ready!
> 
>  
> 
> (I can't believe it's almost over, ahhhhhh).


	44. A Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~Unabashed sentiment warning ~~~~
> 
> Finn POV in here as well, fyi in case you're confused

Poe floats on his back in the lake behind his childhood home. It’s a calm, warm morning on Yavin 4, and it’s his third morning in a row without Rey.

Yavinese binding ceremonies involve a three day separation of the bride and groom, and while Poe hasn’t ever been one for tradition, his father had been so excited that Poe wanted to follow the same ceremony as Kes and Shara that he couldn’t refuse even this detail.

~

Three days ago at sundown, they’d had a large dinner with all the wedding guests – nine, if you counted the droids – and after, Rose and Finn had stood to lead Poe and Rey to their separate quarters. Rey was going down to the village to sleep in a local family’s home (and there had been quite the squabble over who would host the esteemed, beloved Jedi) and Poe was going back to his childhood bed.

They had kissed for the final time as an unmarried couple – a nuance that made his heart speed up even to think about – and Poe had barely had time to deepen it into a proper, searing kiss before Finn pushed his hands between them. “Nuh uh,” the best man said gleefully. “You’ll get plenty of that after the ceremony.”

“And no cheating,” Leia had walked up to prod Poe viciously on the arm. “Close that Bond, you two. I know you can.”

Rey had smiled up at Poe, and he was so thunderstruck he’d barely felt the Bond close off. “Sorry Colonel,” she said, sunny and unapologetic. “But that’s an order”

“And keep it shut, you two,” Leia warned. “I’ll know if you don’t.” Poe winced. Leia had caught him in a number of compromising positions over the years, especially after he turned sixteen, but somehow her overhearing him think about sex, sex with Rey, was worse than all of the incidents combined.

His last glimpse of Rey had been her walking hand-in-hand with Rose through the trees. She looked once more over her shoulder at him before disappearing from view, before she left him to figure out how in the hells he was supposed to go three days without her.

~

Now, he floats on his back peacefully, missing Rey but taking joy in the fact that after tomorrow, they’ll be joined for the rest of their lives, never to be parted again.

A little naïve, maybe, but he’s always been a romantic.

Poe feels a tug on his foot and rolls his eyes. The tug comes back, stronger, and Poe shouts, “Oh no, a Sando monster!” He quickly ducks and twists under the water, striking quickly.

Finn breaks the surface, spluttering, “What the hell?”

Poe follows him up and laughs. “You totally deserved that, bantha brains.”

“You picked me to be your _best_ man!” Finn is still indignant. “You’d think you’d treat me a little better.”

“You should see how I treat my non-best men,” Poe tells him solemnly. Finn crosses his arms in front of his chest and glowers at him. “Come on, Finn, you started it.”

“Oh, I started it, huh?” Finn shifts his feet, bracing himself, and Poe grins. He knows how this is going to go. “Well, let’s see if you can finish it, flyboy.” He knocks an impressive wave of water at Poe, but Poe just dips down beneath the surface again and sweeps towards Finn’s ankles. It’s fairly easy to knock him over, and Finn goes down beneath the surface once more.

Fin shrieks when he comes back up, and the men spend the next hour or so trying to best the other.

They drag themselves to shore and stretch out under Yavin’s warm rays. “You excited for tomorrow?” Finn asks him, eyes closed but grinning wide. He already knows the answer.

“Yeah,” Poe snorts and folds his arms behind his head. “You could say that.”

“I know I’ve said it before, Dameron, but if you hurt her—” Finn’s voice is serious, now.

“After everything we’ve been through, you still think I’d hurt her?” Poe turns to look at his friend.

Finn’s regarding him soberly. “No, I don’t think so. Not on purpose. Just. Rey deserves the universe, you know?”

“I know. And I plan on giving the universe to her.” Both men look back up at the sky, at the trees waving above their heads. It’s going to rain soon, Poe notes. Funny how he could be gone for over ten years and still feel in his bones when it’s going to rain on Yavin 4.

Of course, he’s a personal fan of the rain so he doesn’t say anything. When the drops start hitting the ground fifteen minutes later, Finn yelps and jumps to his feet. “What the fuck?”

“It’s just rain, Finn,” Poe comments lazily, not moving from his spot. “You just went swimming, how is it any different.”

“This is _not_ rain, Poe,” Finn grabs his towel and holds it over his head. “These raindrops are the size of my hand.” Poe just grins in response. “Oh, fuck this,” Finn grumbles. “You’re on your own, Dameron.”

“See you later,” Poe calls after him as he runs for the compound.

He sits up, and crosses his legs. Tomorrow, he’ll marry Rey, and his years of waiting will be over.

Poe breathes in. The rains of Yavin wash over his still form.

He breathes out.

**

Rose informed Rey this morning that Poe and Finn were going swimming, so she figures it’s safe for her to talk to Kes now.

She finds him standing in a garden behind the main house. Rey openly admires the variety of flowers and plants.

“Hey there, Jedi,” Kes greets her when he turns around.

“Hi, Mr. Dameron,” she says. Things are different between them now, she knows. Now that she’s binding herself to his son, and Poe looks so undeniably happy about that – happy to wed a desert rat from Jakku when he could have had anyone in the galaxy – Kes seems to trust her a lot more. Now that she’s come back from being dead, now that she’s crossed actual dimensions to be with his son, Kes trusts her not to break his heart. She hopes she’ll continue to earn that trust.

As if sensing where her thoughts had gone, Kes beckons her over and says, “I couldn’t be prouder of Poe. A father’s only wish is to see his children happy, and you make my son happier than I’ve ever seen him. But I’m proud of you too, Rey.” She knows she looks surprised because he laughs, and it sounds so much like Poe’s laugh that she has to join in. “You’ve been through so much, and now you can rest. You can live the life you deserve.”

Rey smiles and bends down to admire a spiral-shaped shrub. “I love green things,” she tells him idly, stalling the reason she came out here. “You have a lovely garden.”

“You should help me in it,” Kes says, clapping her back when she stands upright. Rey nods enthusiastically. “Gods, Poe loved tending to the garden when he was younger. It spilled over into taking care of that tree out there, and Maker knows how that one ended.” Poe is a miracle, and that’s something Kes and Rey agree on wholeheartedly.

“I bet Poe was adorable as a child,” Rey sighs, feeling nostalgic for something she never had.

“He really was,” Kes puffs out his chest proudly. He digs around in his pocket and pulls out a small holo-frame. He holds it out to Rey, and she sees it’s displaying a picture of Poe around four years of age. Her heart stammers in her chest when she looks down at his round, dimpled cheeks, his brown eyes that promise mischief, the gap in his front teeth that somewhat persisted into adulthood. Poe Dameron was a beautiful child, but her heart hurts from the similarity between him and the child from her vision, the child she’ll never have.

Tears fill her eyes, and she hands the portrait back to Kes. “Thank you for showing me,” she says, meaning it but slightly worried that her crying will insult Kes. “He looks almost the same.”

Kes smiles, but there’s worry in his eyes when he regards her. “He’s the best part of my life, and one of the last connections to Shara that I have,” he says soberly. “But Rey, why are you upset?”

“I can’t have children,” she admits, feeling shame flush along her spine. “When the First Order had me they…they did something to me. And I can’t give Poe children. I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill with more tears because Kes clearly loves family, and she can’t give him grandchildren, either. She can’t possibly be what either Dameron man had envisioned as the right partner for Poe.

Kes holds his arms out, and she realizes he’s offering her a hug. “ _Mija,_ you’ve given us all so much. Don’t blame yourself for what those animals did to you.” Rey walks forward into the embrace, and his strong hands come to wrap around her back. She sniffles and then begins to cry in earnest. “ _Que sepas que estoy aquí._ I’m here for you both.” Rey wants to disappear into this feeling of being comforted.

While he was the first person she considered a paternal figure, she hadn’t gotten to hug Han Solo before he died. Now, in Kes Dameron’s arms, she thinks she understands what it feels like to be hugged by a father.

They stand like that for a few minutes, the cooling breeze wafting through the garden, rustling the delicate petals of the various flowers. When they break apart, Kes wipes a lone tear from her cheek, and she smiles at him gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr. Dameron.”

“Call me Dad, kid,” he puts his hands on her ears and pulls her down so he can kiss the crown of her head, and Rey’s half-tempted to cry again. But, she came out here to ask him something, so she focuses on that mission

“Okay, _dad_ ,” she really likes the word. “I have a question, and you can say no, but I was wondering, for the ceremony, I mean I guess for longer than the ceremony, if I could…” Rey manages to trip all the way through her question, and Kes Dameron’s smile gets wider and wider the whole time.

He agrees to her request.

**

Finn, formerly FN-2187, has been at war his entire life. Now there is peace, and he likes the way it looks.

Right now, it looks like lying on his back in front of the main house on the Dameron compound the night before his best friends get married. It looks like stargazing while holding the hand of  a beautiful woman, who for some reason chose him. It looks like Rose Tico smiling softly at the night sky, laughing at his awful jokes, and slowly but surely putting his missing pieces back together.

He’s always been good at finding the best way to survive. But somehow, he stumbled on the best way to live.

They’re talking about the ceremony tomorrow, and it’s making him feel emotions, emotions long forbidden to him as a Stormtrooper, so he’s still a little scared of them. So, he does what he does best. He makes a joke.

“I bet she cries when Poe slips the ring on her finger. And I bet Poe cries the whole time,” he comments idly. He can usually get Tico to take his bets. Despite claiming to hate the gambling planet they’d taken their first adventure to, she sure does like to play the odds. Hells, she even took a chance on him.

“That isn’t a fair bet, Poe cries whenever Rey does literally anything,” Rose says, kicking at him half-heartedly with her foot.

“I know. It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?” Finn turns his head to bat his eyelashes at his girlfriend. They both erupt in giggles on the grass of Yavin 4.

“You both need to shut up and get some sleep,” Leia calls from the second story window. Finn and Rose roll together in a pile of laughter before standing.  

“Do you ever think about getting married?” Finn asks (and _where did that come from, big deal? Gods, you and your mouth_ ) while he and Rose walk to the guest quarters on the opposite end of the compound.

“Yes,” Rose whispers, coming to a stop. “All the time.” She turns her warm, brown eyes on Finn, and he feels like he might actually be a man, not just a weapon, after all. Rose always makes him feel like a man, and he loves it. He loves her for it. Before he can do anything stupid, she does it for them both. It’s a pattern of theirs.

“Finn,” she asks, getting down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Finn blushes, and he’s sure she can see it, even in the half-light from the neighboring moons. “Yes,” he answers. “Of course I will.” He kneels down next to her, and when Rose kisses him, he swears he can hear the stars singing in praise.

Fuck, he’s been spending too much time with a certain pilot if he’s getting that poetical. And sure enough, when he pulls back from his girlfriend, his fiancée, his face is wet with tears. “Guess Dameron rubbed off on me after all,” he jokes, wiping at his face.

Rose kisses him on the cheek and then catches a teardrop that’s fallen to his chin. “I like it. Kinda makes a girl feel special.”

“You are special,” Finn tells her. “You saved me, and then you loved me. You’re so special, and I love you, and I’m going to marry you.”

“Good,” Rose says solemnly, squeezing his hands. She lets go abruptly. “Last one in has to trim Chewie’s back tomorrow morning!” Rose sprints for the door.

“Aw, hell no,” Finn groans, leaping to his feet and tearing after Rose. “That guy _hates_ me!”

Finn only seems to know women who can kick his ass in a foot race.

Of course he gets stuck with Wookie duty.

**

When Yavin peers over the compound the next day, Poe bolts out of bed. Today. It’s finally today, it’s finally his wedding day. He’s been imagining it since he was a kid, but he never could have imagined how perfect it feels. He gets to see Rey, and fuck if he doesn’t understand why they do a three-day separation on Yavin. Every molecule in his body cries out for her.

He gets through breakfast, his dad plying him with as much food as he can fit on a plate. Poe has no interest in food, not when his heart’s finally, finally going to be whole, not when he’s finally going to marry the woman he loves, but Kes insists on him eating at least four eggs and half a loaf of sweetbread.

“You’ll need your strength for tonight, son,” Kes says, winking at him over his cup of caf.

“Ugh, _Dad._ ” Poe makes a face, but when Kes turns around chuckling, he does eat a little more. His old man has a point.

The next hours pass in a haze, and he spends more than a few of them under the Force tree, completing the appropriate rituals. Finn helps with a couple, and they make pleasant conversation that almost distracts Poe from his consuming anticipation.

He eats a light supper back at the compound, and then goes to get dressed. Somehow through his jittery nerves, Poe puts on a white shirt tucked into black pants. He shrugs his jacket on, and leaves his blaster holstered on his desk. He won’t need it today. Poe runs his hands nervously through his hair, and then braces his hands on his knees, breathing deeply. _It’s Rey,_ he reminds himself. _It’s you and Rey, the way it’s supposed to be. Nothing to be nervous about._

He takes a few more breaths to calm down, and then he straightens up, brushes his teeth in the ‘fresher, and walks outside.

Poe and Finn walk to the Force Tree, and Kes follows. BB-8 rolls along merrily, and when it keeps hitting roots and hooting in frustration, Kes takes mercy on it and picks it up. “I’m getting too old for this, you little rascal,” he scolds the droid half-heartedly.

[Kes, Status: Papa, I am grateful for your help!] Beebee chirps.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kes is gruff, but obviously affectionate.

The quartet reaches the tree, where Leia and their guests are already waiting.

Poe comes to stand in front of Leia, who smiles at him and Finn.

“How’s Rey?” Poe asks, unable to help himself. A small part of him thinks that wouldn’t be the most unlikely thing if she woke up and realized that she could do a lot better than him. If he hadn’t heard her constant adoration and devotion in the Bond for the last weeks, it’d be more than a small part of him.

Leia smacks him upside the head. “Unbelievable,” she tells him as he rubs the sore spot. “Not, ‘Hello, General, how are you General.’” Poe grins sheepishly. “I’m fine, in case you were wondering. And she’s more than fine.”

“Yeah?” Poe asks, smiling shyly.

“Yeah, man, wait ‘til you see her,” Finn says.

Poe stares at him. “You saw her? That’s not fair.”

“It’s not bad luck for _me_ to see her,” Finn tells him gleefully, clasping his hands behind his back and directing his attention to the opposite side of the clearing, where Rey and Rose should appear soon.

“But, but, but,” Poe splutters. “Come on, Finn, what did she look like?” He continues to beg Finn, who remains stoic and unmoved, for details for almost a minute until Leia pinches his ear. “Ah! Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

Poe shuffles his feet, and he turns to look at the Tree, searching for serenity. His eyes bug out of his head when he sees her.

Shara Bey stands in front of the tree she had planted, part of the halo of light that extends from its trunk. Poe told himself he wouldn’t cry yet, that he’d at least make it to the vows before he started to cry, but he can’t help it now.

Shara waves her hand in greeting and smiles at him. Poe waves and smiles back. _I love you,_ they say at the same time. He whips his head around to get Kes’s attention.

“Dad,” Poe whispers. “Dad, Mom’s here.”

Kes looks over at Shara over his son’s shoulder, and then refocuses on Poe. “I know,” he smiles, tears in his eyes as he looks at his son. “She always is.” Poe turns around to look at her one more time, and she fades back into the light of the tree.

Poe’s beaming through his tears, but then the trees seem to still, and the Force Tree hums behind him as if to say, _now._

Rey’s standing at the edge of the clearing, behind Rose. Rose walks forward first, grinning at everyone as she skips over the terrain. She looks pretty in a pale yellow dress, her hair in a single braid with a flower on the end. Poe can practically feel Finn’s joy beside him while Rose walks towards them.

Rose looks very pretty, but Poe can only really think about Rey.

She’s nothing short of resplendent in a long, white dress. A green sash is tied around her slender waist, and the gown is sleeveless, showing expanses of her freckled skin. Her hair has been half-braided into a crown around her head, flowers woven throughout, and the rest of her hair falls in waves around her shoulders. Rey is smiling at him, and the warmth of it touches him from thirty feet away.

He has to blink away tears multiple times so he can continue to gaze at her. Poe is fucking gone, transported to another dimension where nothing cruel ever happened to any of them because for the first time in his life, he’s completely at peace. The Light of the Force Tree surges, and the Bond splits open. Radiant joy and love burst into Poe’s mind, and he’s sure he’s returning the feeling as Rey begins to walk.

BB-8 sings the Yavinese wedding march as Rey moves towards him with Niney rolling along at her feet. Her dainty hand is tucked into Chewbacca’s large, hairy arm.

 _That’s funny,_ Rey says to him, smiling at him while she approaches, and bless her for ignoring how much of a mess he is right now, seeing and hearing her for the first time in three days. _I could have sworn I’ve heard this song before. Oh!_ And her smile is wider, and teasing. _Beebee sang that over and over again for weeks after he started calling me Mistress-Rey._ Poe can’t even be embarrassed, not when his droid’s plotting ended so well for him.

Rey continues to walk towards him, ethereal and otherworldly in her beauty, and he’s struck, not for the first time, by how unfair it is, that this goddess, this _diosa,_ settled on a scruffy pilot with bad luck and a big mouth.

Chewbacca howls something at him when they draw near that has Rey laughing. He doesn’t want a translation of it; he can only assume it’s, “I’ll be watching you, Dameron.”

Rey tugs Chewbacca down so she can kiss him on the cheek. Poe didn’t think Wookies could blush, but Chewie shuffles his feet and grumbles something softly, avoiding eye contact as he scoots over to his spot in the assembled crowd.

Finn and Rose take their places behind them, and Leia stands between them. Niney and Beebee have rolled to the side to watch, rapt and gleeful. Out in the audience are his father, Chewbacca, and Admiral Murrin and her wife Dr. Kalonia. Kalonia had been instrumental in Poe’s recovery, and then in Rey’s, so she had been an obvious choice for today (Poe can’t help but think having Murrin here in attendance was a great opportunity as well, as it probably pissed off Replinsk to no end that he wasn’t invited).

Leia begins to speak, and he redirects his attention from the veritable halo emitting from Rey to the woman he’s long considered a second mother.

“We are gathered here today to join two beloved members of my family,” and Poe feels the happiness pouring off of Rey, her joy at Leia considering her family,  “to witness a union between two souls who found each other when all hope seemed lost, two souls who not only found the Light again, but shared it with so many people, and protected that Light from the worst Darkness.”

“Rey of Jakku and Poe of Yavin stand before you to affirm their devotion to each other, and to bind their souls together forever, in the will of the Force.”

Poe looks back at Rey, who’s blushing so prettily he wants to kiss her. Leia had already pre-scolded him about keeping his hands, mouth, and mind to himself during the ceremony (“ _I don’t want to see or hear any of that, Colonel, not until you’re properly married_ ”).

Rey’s a different fucking story though, and she’s obviously shielding her thoughts from Leia as she projects how much she loves him, and how much she’s looking forward to tonight in the Bond. Poe’s sure his face is flaming red by the end of Rey’s detailed description of her plans for their wedding night, especially when Rey coyly finishes with, _And I think you should leave the jacket on, Colonel._ He clears his throat and looks pointedly at Leia, who’s smirking at him.

“Your vows, Colonel Dameron?” She prompts him, archly.

“Oh, right,” and more than one person is laughing at him. Finn taps him on the shoulder and hands him his mother’s ring. Rey had entrusted it to him three days ago, begrudgingly handing over her prized possession.

Poe squares his shoulders and looks down at the woman who so easily became his entire galaxy.

“Rey,” he says, and he has to clear his throat almost automatically because he’s crying.

“I told you, Tico,” Finn stage-whispers behind him.

“Captain Finn, I will remove you myself if I have to,” Rey scolds him over Poe’s shoulder. A whispered ‘sorry’ indicates that it’s safe for Poe to keep talking.

“Rey,” he starts over again. “The day I met you, I thought life as I knew it was over. In a way, I was right. You met me at my lowest, when I had begun to doubt my place in the galaxy. You saw the good in me, and you coaxed it back out. You make me feel like I can do anything, be anything. My life before was over the second I met you because my life is so much better with you in it.”

“I love how you’re excited for each new experience. I love how you find the time to be kind to every person you meet, no matter how tired or overwhelmed you are. I love how you’re the most powerful person I’ve ever met, because my dad always said I’d need a woman who could kick my ass into shape.” And everyone’s laughing, except Poe, who completely meant what he said.

“I vow to share with you as many new experiences as possible. I vow to always be kind to you, to help you when you’re tired, or in pain, to share your burdens. I vow to accept you as you are, and I vow to always appreciate how strong you are. Because you are a miracle, Rey. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and to this galaxy. I vow to spend each day you’ll give me by your side. I vow to never leave you, to always support you. I love you, my Jedi, my knight, my galaxy.”

“Rey, I vow to love you until the day I die, and every day after.” He takes her small hand in his, and slides the silver ring back into its rightful place. Rey takes time to marvel at the shine of it against her skin, holding her hand out to look at it. Poe privately vows to make her smile like that every day of their life together.

“Now, Rey,” Leia says, drawing her attention away. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh, good!” Rey laughs nervously and wipes her eyes. “I love you, Poe. I loved you before I was even sure what love was, and I’m so happy to start our life together.” Poe’s crying again, but Rey at least has composed herself, and she continues, her lilting voice carrying words that promise to sear into his heart forever.

“I love how kind you are,” Rey says softly. “You always say that I’m kind, but you’re the one who finds it in himself to be so good, so patient, with everyone he meets. I vow to be as kind to you as you are to everyone else. I love how you offer your forgiveness so readily, without bitterness or restraint. I vow to try and earn that forgiveness every time you give it to me.”

Poe has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t interrupt to tell her how she so rarely requires forgiveness. This is her turn, after all. “I love that you are so strong, and so full of Light. You’re a beacon for all of us, and I love how the Force moves around you. You are unlike anyone else in this galaxy, and I vow to remind you of that every day I spend as your wife.” Poe hones in on the word, drinks it in greedily. Rey holds out a silver ring, unembellished but beautiful all the same.  

“This is from a dial on the navigational system on Shara’s A-Wing,” Rey explains shyly. “I welded it into a ring because I figured it made sense. I wanted you to always have a part of your mother with you again, because you were so generous in giving her ring to me. And I chose the navigational system because I vow that I will always come back to you, the only true north I’ll ever need to follow.” Poe’s crying, again, and it definitely isn’t time for it yet and Leia’s probably going to yell at him, but he can’t help but kiss her after she says that.

Rey laughs at him when he pulls away, and he’s impossibly happy that he found someone he so effortlessly loves. Her sweet laugh reminds him of the first time he heard her laugh. He knew then he’d want to spend the rest of his life wanting to hear her laugh over and over again; Poe Dameron knows he’s lucky because she’s letting him do just that, with the promise of the years they’ll share stretching before him.

“Poe Dameron, I vow to love you until the stars fade away, and the galaxy stops turning.” Rey holds the ring out, and she slips it on his finger. It fits perfectly, like Rey fits him perfectly, and Poe kisses her again, quickly but forcefully.

“And now the traditional Yavinese vows,” Leia smiles and Poe raises his left hand, with his new ring on the fourth finger. Rey mirrors the movement, crossing her left hand over so their palms are lined up, ring against ring. Finn and Rose grab either end of the rope Poe had spent all morning weaving under the Force Tree, and they loop it around Poe’s wrist, and then his and Rey’s hands, and finally her wrist. The best man and maid of honor take a step back, and Leia looks at Poe. “You know what to do, Colonel,” she reminds him.

Poe clears his throat and looks Rey in the eyes. Hazel, wide, trusting: just a small view of the ever-rotating and multiplying galaxies inside of her.

The man starts the vows in Yavinese binding ceremonies, and Rey had to memorize her answering lines separately over the last three days. Poe bites his lip before launching into the oath he used to practice as a child in the shadow of this very same tree, clutching his mother’s ring while he leapt from root to root, praying to the Force for someone to love with every ounce of strength and devotion he knew he was capable of.

The Force had answered, and she’s standing right here.

“I vow to protect you, to cherish you, to love you under the sun of Yavin, and every other sun in the galaxy, for you are my sun.” He says, glad that somehow he’s not choking on the words while sobbing.

Rey smiles at him reassuringly, and the Bond is alive with it, with her love for him, with her dedication to the words she’s about to say. “I vow to guide you, to treasure you, to love you on the moons of Yavin, and the moons of each star in the sky, for you are my moon.” And it’s true, honestly true, that he’s a moon to her sun, dedicated to each other for eternity in an endless orbit.

Poe wipes his eyes as smoothly as he can and says, “I vow to be a safe harbor for you to return to. I vow to wait for you, no matter how far you may travel from my side, or I from yours. I vow to wait for you, and in turn, to return to you, for as long as the Force wills it.”

Rey answers. “I vow to be a sanctuary, a place of safety and comfort for all life’s trials for you to seek comfort in. I vow to always return to you, to be with you, for as long as you will have me. I vow to come back to you after all our journeys in the stars, for as long as the Force wills it.”   

He’s sure she realized by now just how similar these words are to the ones she said to him, more than a year ago in the hangar bay, how similar this is to the promise he sometimes – often – demands from her.

“And do you affirm that you will follow this oath this to each other, in front of friends and family, and in front of the Force?” Leia asks, voice warm as she gazes at their joined hands.

“I do,” Poe’s never said anything more true.

“I do,” Rey’s answer rings with the same confidence. Poe swears the rope that binds them shines with the Light of the Force Tree.

“Then with the power vested in me by the Resistance, the Republic, the former monarchy of Alderaan, and probably any other ridiculous body of authority you could name,” Leia’s voice is dry but only so she can hide how wet her eyes are, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

**

Poe’s definitely kissed her with passion in the past; even his quick kisses in the hallway somehow were able to telegraph the depths of his feeling for her.

It somehow feels new, more powerful today.

Poe kisses her, not like he wants to consume her, but like he wants to pour everything he has into it, like he wants to become one being, one soul through the power of the kiss.

The collected members of the audience clap, but Poe shows no sign of stopping.

“Colonel Dameron,” Leia’s voice breaks in after a minute. “If you could unhand the Jedi, and not emotionally scar your droids or your friends, that would be wonderful.”

 _Fuck it,_ Poe says to her privately. _Let them watch._ Rey swats at him playfully, and he breaks the kiss, reluctance swarming the Bond like an angry flock of battlebirds.

 _To be continued, Colonel,_ Rey teases him. She ducks in quickly to kiss him once more, and then she pulls him by the hands into a circle of their waiting friends and family.

She and Poe dance the traditional waltz -- Kes had practiced with her yesterday upon her request -- and he tucks his face into her neck and holds her so closely she forgets that they don’t share one breath, one heart.

Poe Dameron is hers, and she is his. Nothing in the galaxy can touch them now.

***

They eat, drink, and laugh well past sundown. Rey wanders over to an exposed root so she can sit, offering a hasty mental apology to Leia for probably getting dirt on the gown. She rests her chin in her hand and studies the party in front of her while she reflects on the last year and a half of her life.

Rey had always assumed that her destiny was to be alone. She remembers how it felt to sit in her AT-AT, nowhere special, nothing but a doll of a pilot to keep her company as she pretended to be on a ship far, far away from her tiny cot and her tinier hopes. There had been no one for her during those cold nights, and she isn’t sure how she continued to hope through that long period of isolation. Rey felt it into her bones, then, that she had done something wrong, and the knowledge that she didn’t deserve to be loved.

Rey had never forgotten how to hope that she was wrong, to hope that maybe she wasn’t meant for nothing; but, beginning her training as a Jedi had caused a whisper of doubt to pull through her, telling her that she would never have a family. She had a new destiny after the Force awakened in her, but to someone with nothing, the knowledge that the entire galaxy was her responsibility was not the same as having a place to belong.

Once Ben confirmed her worst fear – that her parents hadn’t died or lost her in some tragic accident, that they had _left_ her, they’d chosen to leave her, and never come back – Rey had slipped further into her acceptance that anywhere she went in the galaxy would feel like a temporary place, a brief stop on a journey that was meant to be taken alone as the last of the Jedi, with no one by her side. There’s no real home for someone who is nothing, after all. Someone who is nothing doesn’t deserve to be loved.

But she knows now. She has Finn, and Rose; she has Chewie, and Leia, as well as Beebee and Niney; she is in the Force, she _is_ the Force, she is one with Master Luke, and Yoda, Chirrut and everyone who has come before, everyone who will come after. Rey has so many more people in her life than she ever thought possible, and she loves them all.

Most miraculously, she has Poe. And Poe has never made her feel like anything less than _everything._ Poe is her home, her love, her galaxy.

Rey watches her husband – her _husband_ – dance with Leia under the stars, and Finn looks on from the side, arm draped around Rose’s shoulders. Chewbacca growls in faux-annoyance while Beebee and Niney lazily run in circles around his feet. Kes Dameron sits under the Force Tree, a look of sheer contentment on his face as his spirit communes with his wife’s.

Rey is the custodian of the Force and these people, and the weight of that responsibility is not oppressive. In fact, she has never been happier. There will be other battles to fight, and the galaxy’s journey to recover from the last fifty years of war will not be easy. But Rey knows something about recovery; she knows something about pain, and how to move through it, to let it change you as it will, but not let it ruin or define you.

Rey spent a lot of her life assuming that she was meant to be alone, that she was never meant to be loved; but that changed after she met Poe Dameron.

The journey is just beginning, and she’s sure she has so much more to learn.

Everything that follows teaches Rey that she has always deserved to be loved.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so close to the end and I'm feeling an emotion; chapter 45 will be the epilogue (up tomorrow, and full of smut/feels). 
> 
>  
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	45. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: shameless smut/feels

Rey holds Poe’s hand while they walk across the lawn. Someone – and she suspects Rose – had rigged lanterns to light a path through the woods, across the clearing, and to the entrance to Poe’s quarters. The rest of the wedding party follows them, until they split off to the various units to go to bed. Finally, it’s just Leia and Kes saying goodnight before they walk towards the main house.

Rey waves to them both, beaming so much her face hurts. She turns, and Poe stands in front of her, fidgeting with his hands. He strokes the ring on his finger, smiling, unaware that she’s looking at him.

“Well?” Rey says, strangely nervous.

Poe looks up, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Well.” He repeats.

“What now?” Rey asks, walking forward to grab his hands.

“Now, we go inside,” Poe begins, leaning in to kiss her sweetly.

“What happens then?” Rey knows exactly what happens after they go inside, but she wants to hear him say it.

“And then we play Sabacc,” Poe grins lazily. Rey frowns at him. “What, that’s not what you had in mind?”

“You know what I had in mind,” Rey reminds him in a stern voice. She had been very particular during the ceremony in how she envisioned this night going.

“Sorry, Sunshine,” Poe fakes a yawn, and puts his hand on his lower back, and stretches. “Too much excitement, I need to rest. You shouldn’t have married an old man.”

“Poe Dameron, stop teasing me,” Rey scolds him. “That’s no way to treat your wife.”

Poe straightens up immediately. Before his eyes had been alight with mischief; now something else entirely burns inside him. “You’re right,” he says hoarsely. “It’s not.” Before she can blink, he’s swept her into his arms and is walking towards the front door.

Rey squeaks when he kisses her before crossing the threshold, and her hands go to tangle in his hair of their own accord. Poe rests his forehead against hers when they break apart, and Rey tries her best to catch her breath. “Forget Sabacc,” he says, gazing down at her while walking into his room. “I think I have a new idea.” Rey blushes furiously as her husband sends a very detailed plan, not entirely unlike her own from earlier, into the Bond. “Is that more acceptable?” Rey nods, having lost her voice. “Oh, good.” Poe’s smile is flirtatious but also shy as he sets her on her feet in front of the bed.

He bounces slightly on his heels while he looks down at her feet, and Rey feels hotter than she can ever remember feeling as he drags his eyes up the length of her body. His throat works almost compulsively when he lets his gaze linger on the curve of her breasts under the gown.

“Poe?” He hasn’t said anything in almost a minute; he’s just been staring. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Sunshine,” he nods, breaking his focus to look her in the face. Rey sees nothing but love in his eyes, love and desire and joy. Poe steps in to kiss her, his hands on her shoulders. His tongue strokes gently against her bottom lip, and Rey grips the front of his jacket, trying to pull him in closer, trying to get him to move things along a little faster. Poe pulls back to look at her again, and he says earnestly, “More than okay. Perfect.”

He ducks in to kiss under her ear. Rey whimpers at the brush of his lips against the thin skin. She can feel him smile against her neck as he works his way down to where her shoulder begins. “Perfect,” Poe whispers, and she shivers in response as she feels the callouses of his fingers trail along her upper arm, and up to where her strap rests on her shoulder. He pulls it down gently, letting it fall off to rest loosely against her arm. Poe kisses the new expanse of skin, and Rey slides her hands under his jacket, gripping the shirt over his back as his own hands drift to the buttons holding her gown together along her spine. He pauses to undo the sash around her waist, and he pulls it off with deliberate slowness. It flutters to the ground, soundless.

“Perfect,” he says into the edge of her collarbone, sliding his mouth along to the bottom of her throat while he slips her other strap off. His nimble fingers make short work of the buttons, and Rey knows she needs to catch up. She doesn’t know where she wants her hands: in his hair, keeping his mouth against her skin so he can keep creating the trails that are slowly driving her wild; at his belt, undoing it so she can feel him, hard and hot in her hand; or, working at his various layers so she can feel him bare against her, mirroring his own current attempts to rid Rey of her clothing.

She settles for the last option, and as Poe nears the final set of buttons, right above the swell of her ass, Rey gets the jacket off his shoulders. “Thought you wanted me to keep that on,” Poe teases her, taking his hands away from her body so he can shrug the jacket all the way off.

“Not now,” she says, untucking his shirt with her fumbling fingers. Rey’s almost vibrating with how much she wants him. “We can do that next.” She manages to get the shirt over his head with his help, and she tosses it carelessly to the side.

“I like that sound of that.” Poe grabs her by the hips almost roughly and pulls her flush to his body so he can kiss her again. He groans slightly when her hands trace down his torso and begin to undo his belt. He steps back and tugs gently on the top of her dress so it falls to the floor, pooling around her feet. Rey steps out of it, and stands, waiting for him to say something. “It sounds ….” Poe’s mouth hangs slightly open as he stares at her, waiting for him, wearing only her underwear.

“Perfect?” Rey asks, half-teasing as her cheeks burn from his close scrutiny.

“Yeah,” Poe’s hand goes to his mouth briefly as he regards her form, and Rey is briefly distracted by the glint of silver on his finger. “You really are.”

They collide once more, and Rey gasps at the fervor with which his mouth explores hers. _I love you,_ he tells her, and everything around them is clear and open and Light.

 _I love you,_ she answers, basking in the golden warmth of her pilot. Rey tugs at his unbuttoned pants, and he twists his hips slightly to help get them and his skivvies off. Poe kicks them off, and Rey presses as close as she can get to him. He’s hard, somehow both comforting and exhilarating, against her hip, and she rocks against it gently.

 _Bed?_ He asks her, hopeful and hesitant, and she loves him for it. Poe doesn’t treat her like she’s fragile. He treats her like she’s valuable. Rey nods, and they manage to get to the mattress.

She ends up on top of him, and it’s overwhelming, how Poe looks up at her like she’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen.

“You are,” he tells her hoarsely, rocking against her. “You really are, sweetheart.” She leans in to kiss him, riding him as well as she can with her legs shaking. “Best thing I’ve ever seen, most wonderful,” and he kisses her, thrusting his hips to match her pace, his feet braced against the bed, “Most incredible,” Rey moans as he wraps an arm around her waist, finding the perfect angle, and driving into her over and over again, “Most beautiful thing that’s ever existed.” He reaches between their bodies to stroke her clit, Rey’s struck by an almost unbearable wave of pleasure, and she crests over and over again, muffling her shouts against Poe’s neck while he continues to move through it.

“Fuck,” he groans when she’s at the tail end. “Fuck, I love you.” He slips out to roll them over, and Rey’s insensible, desperate for him again. She needs to have him now, always. Poe obliges, and she whimpers as he pushes back in, easily. 

“You have me, Sunshine,” Poe whispers, his pace becoming erratic as he reaches his own climax. “Always. You always have me.”

“I love you,” she tells him, and that’s all there is, for countless, eternal minutes, both of them wrapped up in the Bond, nothing but love and _Poe._

Rey sleeps well that night, better than she ever has, warm and in the arms of her husband.

***

They’re spending one more day on  Yavin 4 before departing on their honeymoon – Rey giggles at the word, remembering how Poe taught it to her.

“I’m still a little sad that there isn’t an actual place made out of honey,” she tells him in the kitchen the morning after their wedding. Poe’s standing at the counter, preparing a plate of food for breakfast. Rey presses a kiss into his shoulder and snags a slice of sweetbread out of his hand.

“You’re impossible,” he tells her, but it’s not as serious as it could be when he twists his neck slightly to capture her lips in a real kiss.

“You two are both impossible,” Kes grumbles. His head is on the table, and he looks a little green.

“Not my fault your hungover, _papi,_ ” Poe says with little to no sympathy. His dad makes a rude hand gesture in return, and Poe tsks at him. “Now, now, now. Is that the way to treat your only son, the one who loves you, the one who’s holding caf that he made just for you?”

“Ahhh,” Kes looks up finally at that. “Bless you, _mijo_.” Poe sits next to his dad and hands him one mug of the steaming caffeinated beverage.

Both Dameron men drink heavily, and Rey regards them with nothing short of extreme fondness.

Niney rolls up next to her and gently bumps against her leg. [Jedi Master Rey] it says solemnly. [I believe BB-8 requires repairs this morning. It tried to beat Captain Finn in a race, and slightly damaged its visual interface when the captain tripped over it.]

“Is Finn okay?” Poe asks, mouth full of bread and caf.

Niney regards Poe with extreme distaste in its tiny optical unit. [Captain Finn also required repairs,] it beeps. [But I considered that less important.]

Rey shakes her head at both Poe and Niney. “I’ll go fix at least one of them,” she tells the Dameron men. “Both of you keep eating.” She kisses Poe on the cheek, and Kes on the head before leaving the kitchen, Niney close at her heels.

BB-8 is shamelessly proud of its victory the previous night. Rey fusses over it as it tells her [Captain Finn did not consider the use of the booster to be fair, so he tried to kick me like a bolo-ball, and that’s when he tripped.]

Niney makes a noise suspiciously like a huff. [Rude man.]

Rey smiles privately to herself as she makes her final adjustment to Beebee’s interface. “Antenna,” she reminds it, straightening it back out. “There you go, Beebee, good as new. No more letting men play limmie with you.” Beebee trills excitedly, and it zips past her. Niney’s next beep sounds like a sigh, and Rey is utterly amused at how far the once-netural droid has come.

[I will follow BB-8 to make sure it will not require future repairs] Niney informs her solemnly, and rolls away after the troublesome droid. Rey sits back on her heels and giggles, watching them zoom around the compound. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say the dour reformed droid had a crush on the orange and white pest.

“Rey,” Leia calls from behind her. Rey stands and turns to greet the general.

“Hello, Leia,” she smiles at the older woman. They haven’t had a chance to speak one on one since Ben left, but they’ve grown close, especially after Rey’s brush with death. Rey had told her everything she could about Padme Amidala, and Leia had cried learning that her mother had wanted to stay with her. Rey held Leia for an hour afterwards, and both women had cried from the galaxy’s past transgressions against the general’s family.

“Excited for your trip, dear?” Leia isn’t using her cane today, which Rey is thrilled about. Leia looks happier these days. Her son returned to them, and the crushing weight of his presence in the Dark has been lifted, freeing much of the tension in her body.

“Very much,” Rey smiles at her. “Thank you for everything, Leia.”

Leia waves a hand. “It’s easy to spare your best pilot and your only Jedi when they’ve done most of the hard work for you,” she says cheerfully.

Rey wraps an arm around Leia’s shoulder and grins wider. They stand in silence briefly, watching the light of Yavin stretch across the grounds, reflecting off the droids playing in the distance. Woolamanders hoot from the tree line, and Rey’s considering introducing Leia to her friends, when Leia speaks.

“You should talk to Doctor Kalonia before you leave, Rey,” she suggests. “You’ll be gone for almost a month, and I know for a fact you refused the medical exam after Endor.” Rey had more than refused – she’d tossed the Medical Officer away from her bodily after he tried to jab a needle in her arm without permission. Her lingering distrust of needles and medical droids remained, but she knew she was physically intact and didn’t require further examination. Ben had done everything he could to save her, and Rey felt better than she had in years. So, she refused medical treatment.

“Really?” Rey wrinkles her nose.

“Yes, really,” Leia looks at her amusedly. “You two will be going to many different planets, in different star systems, from what I heard of Poe’s grand plan for you. So it’s probably best if you’re up to date on your immunizations. And Rey, you’ve been through a lot in the last year. It’s best to make sure everything is in good order before you leave.” Leia’s always had sound advice in the past, and there’s something almost urgent in her voice, so Rey agrees.

That’s how she finds herself with Kalonia in the guest quarters the doctor shares with Murrin. _“Call me Sondra,_ ” the admiral had told her cheerfully before leaving to give them privacy.

The exam is better than the ones she’s had so far in her life. Kalonia has a warm and pleasant bedside manner, and she explains everything she does before going through with it. She uses mostly hand-held scanners, and doesn’t rely on droids.

Rey’s relaxed as she can be, sitting on an improvised exam table, while she recounts her medical history with Kalonia. Her shoulders tense briefly when she describes her infertility and its cause. Rey whispers about how they’d injected her with something, carved her open, and ruined everything they left behind, and Kalonia frowns as she scans her abdomen with an imaging instrument.

“So, the doctors in the Med Bay told me I’d never have children,” Rey says softly.

“Rey,” Kalonia’s frowning at the device in her hands. “Where did the lightsaber wound occur?”

Rey gestures across her abdomen, dragging her hand from the middle of her rib cage, down to four inches below her navel. “All the way through,” she shrugs. “But Ben was able to heal me using the Force.”

“Rey,” Kalonia’s warm hands press against her abdomen. “What I see on today’s scan indicates that something’s been reversed.”

A knot of tension, hot and thick and tired, tightens briefly and then begins to unravel, opening itself up to light and hope once more. “What?” Rey asks, voice not even a whisper.

Kalonia taps through her medical records, frowning less now. “The scans from right after your capture, and the scans from today – they don’t look the same. There’s still some scar tissue, and it’s hard to see what’s happening on a cellular level, but we can check your hormones to make sure. Rey, I think your chances of carrying a child are significantly improved.”

“Really?” Rey’s reduced to one word questions, apparently. “It’s possible?”

“It will still be difficult,” Kalonia tells her gently. “But yes, it is possible. Whatever young Master Solo did, it began a healing process that your body is still undergoing.” Rey examines the holopad in her lap. Her right hand comes up to cover her mouth as she sifts through thousands of emotions.

“Rey?” Kalonia’s voice is gentle. “Are you okay?”

Rey nods, and then her breath catches. She sobs into her hand, and Kalonia comes to sit next to her on the cot. “It’s okay,” the doctor soothes her. “You’ll be okay, no matter what.”

“I could have—” Rey’s left hand skims over the holopad, over the highlighted sections Kalonia’s showing her. Her ring catches the light as she examines the restructured tissues. “I might—”

“Yes, Rey, it’s possible.” Kalonia wraps an arm around her shoulder, and then double taps the holopad. “Here. It won’t be easy, and you still need to gain some weight; but there’s a couple things you could do to improve your chances, if you and Poe were interested.” Rey listens, enraptured, as Doctor Kalonia walks her through the methods and remedies that could help her get everything she ever wanted.

**

Poe’s behind his sweetheart that night as they move almost lazily against each other on their sides, naked under the warm blankets.

Rey had mentioned wanting to tell him something earlier that afternoon, but then dinner had distracted them, and now _this_ is happening, and he makes a mental note to ask her about it after.

So now, one arm acts as a pillow for his wife, and the other maps out the constellations of her freckles as he strokes into her patiently, teasing her higher while she makes noises so sweet he swears his teeth hurt.

“Poe,” her voice is breathy, unfocused. They’ve been at this for almost half an hour, and he can feel how much she’s floating. “Poe, I want—” she gets cut off when she moans, long and low, as he purposefully drags his cock against that spot inside her while rolling a nipple between his finger and thumb.

“What do you want, Rey?” he asks. She doesn’t respond, shaking her head and then turning it slightly so he has better access to her mouth. They kiss, sloppy and open-mouthed, her elbow bending awkwardly so she can cup his jaw in her hand.

After they break, gasping for air, Rey’s still too caught up in feeling to respond to his question. That just won’t do. He can’t deny her anything, more than a year into sharing _this_ with her, and he’s still shaken to his core with gratitude that she’s chosen him, that she chose to give him everything he’s ever wanted. She agreed to be his _wife,_ she bound herself to him and let him bind himself to her forever.

Poe needs to know what she wants, now.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he begs, fuck-all stupid with lust as he rocks into her.

“Give you anything you want,” he mouths along her neck, tasting the salt that still bears the taste of sand and desert but also something undeniably Rey.

She gasps, arching her back and grinding back on him with more force. His hips stutter, and Poe swears he sees the Maker as she somehow tightens more around him. He manages to get a hand between her thighs, squeezed tight as they are, and rubs her clit in time with his thrusts, her legs finally falling apart, to give him the best angle.

They aren’t moving very fast yet, but he can’t think for feeling her grip him, wet and hot, and it’s enough to drive him mad. “Give you anything.” He noses along her hairline, pulls her hips slightly so she’s almost lying on top of him, snapping his hips as his bent leg pushes against the bed viciously in an attempt for proper leverage. “Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to you. Anything.”  They’re definitely going faster now, and it’s unsustainable; his pace is interrupted as a vision pours into the Bond.

A vision of a _child_ , with hazel eyes, dark curls, and a laughing mouth forms in his mind. The boy is sitting on Poe’s lap in a rebuilt Black One while his beautiful mother laughs and scolds them half-heartedly from the ground. So much of Rey is in the toddler, in his nose, in his laugh. The hair though, the hair and the chin and the _mischief._ That’s all him. That’s his boy. With the vision comes the feeling of unconditional love, of vulnerable hope. _Kalonia said it’s possible, now,_ she whispers as he watches the scene in her head, the vision the Force had given her. _She said we might be able to have him._

Poe’s overcome with sheer _want_ , want of a different making, want that makes his heart swell as he realizes how much he wants this too, this impossible dream that he’s refused to think about for fear of never having it; a dream that’s apparently no longer impossible. He can have this. They can have this. Poe watches greedily as his wife kisses his son on the forehead. He watches a future version of himself gazing at his family, looking every bit as overwhelmed with love and happiness as he is right now in this moment with Rey.

The vision hums with joy from all directions. Then, the boy fades as quickly as he came, Rey whimpering as they’re dragged back into the moment.

“Yes,” he gasps. “ _Yes.”_ The position isn’t enough anymore, and he pulls out of her—she makes an indignant noise that makes him love her impossibly more—long enough to push her onto her back. Poe lowers himself until he’s cradled by her hipbones, which have become slightly softened by the weight she’s been able to gain in the last month. He takes her small hand in his, kissing the ring on her left hand as he slips back into her, dropping her hand on the mattress next to her head, and she grips the sheets when he presses back against her.  

They moan together as he re-enters the slick grip of her body, and it feels just as good as it did the first time, the third time, the fiftieth time. Poe doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being enthralled by the idea of being inside Rey. He doesn’t return to the breakneck pace from before, but urgency still defines his every movement as he thrusts into her, bearing his weight on his forearms so that his chest can still press into hers. “I’ll give you anything, everything,” he promises, their eyes locking, neither looking away.

Tears form in his darling’s eyes, and he feels them prick at the corner of his, as well. “I’ll give you the galaxy.” His voice is roughened by emotion.

Poe kisses her, or maybe Rey kisses him, the feedback loop of their Bond blurring the lines between _him_ and _her_ more intensely than usual. The pleasure builds up to critical mass at the base of his spine.

“Don’t want the galaxy,” she says, both in her mind and aloud. Her legs come around his waist, holding him close to her gorgeous body. “Just want you. Just want a family with you. Give me a child, Poe.”

Poe’s gone. He’s gone and distantly he knows he should be ashamed, letting go before his partner’s needs were met, but hells _,_ she was playing dirty, saying shit like that.

The rest of his brain can’t be nearly so eloquent; her name is the only word it knows, and the waves of white hot pleasure keep coming as Rey tips over into orgasm as well. The intensity continues to burn after he’s physically done, and he gets a grip long enough to kiss her through the aftershocks. He realizes that he’s crying, harder than he usually does.

“I love you,” he sobs as she cries the same words through their bond. “I love you so kriffing much.” She leans up long enough to kiss the tear threatening to fall off the tip of his nose, and she pulls him down towards her.

He wraps his arms around her as well as he can, taking care to grab one of her knees where it’s crooked against his hip to keep her more or less aligned, and rolls so that she’s spread mostly on top of him, face pressed into his neck, hair brushing his chin. The shift had made him slip most of the way out of her, but neither of them move to fully disconnect. Their breathing is matched in raggedness, and he wipes tears off her cheeks even as she strokes away his. When his eye catches on the gleaming silver of his wedding band, the sight makes him wish he were ten years younger, so he could be fully be inside her again, now, immediately, always.

Poe settles on, “I love you, Sunshine.”

“I know.” Her voice is contented, not a hint of teasing present. Poe squeezes her sides playfully all the same. Rey laughs, and lifts her head to smile at him. Her smile is just as beautiful and radiant as it was the day he first met her, back on Crait. “I love you, too.”

“Think we made a baby?” He asks, hopefully.

Rey giggles. “I never had the implant removed, and I didn’t ask Kalonia to take it out when she told me. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to try right away.”

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” and it’s the easiest choice he ever made, if only because loving Rey couldn’t ever be considered a choice, in the same way breathing or eating couldn’t be choices. “If we could take the implant out ourselves, I’d want to start trying right now.” He considers it for a second. “Well, maybe in half an hour.” Rey pokes him in the stomach, and he laughs once, and then kisses her on the head.

They lie together peacefully for long moments.

“Now what?” Rey asks, sleepily.

“Now we start our biggest adventure yet,” he whispers, stroking her hair. “So you should get some rest, Mrs. Dameron,” He feels her heart skip a beat at the name, and it’s only fair because his did too.

“I like the sound of that,” she nuzzles in closer to him. “Say it again?” Rey’s smile is undimmed, her small chin resting on his chest.

“Mrs. Dameron,” he leans up and kisses her slowly, like they have all the time in the world, which they do.

They don’t have to fight tomorrow. They don’t have to be soldiers anymore; they don’t have to worry about carrying the fate of the galaxy on their shoulders. They can just be Poe and Rey – Poe and Rey _Dameron,_ he corrects, heart still skipping over it – the way he always wanted.

The war is over, and they can finally start living.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for "Bound to the Light," my friends. Thank you so much for your constant support and love. Your feedback and support have been wonderful the last month and a half, and writing this was an absolute joy. I'm strangely sad to see it ending, but it's been marvelous to see a novel-length work through to the end, especially with you all as my readers.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and thank you for everything <3
> 
>  
> 
> p.s. Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation in this universe.  
> I have some ~ideas~
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you and if you aren't tired of my absurd writing yet, go ahead and check out [May the Froth Be With You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884990/chapters/31947858), my other Damerey fic (Modern AU with some coffee shop vibes)


	46. What's Next? (Janus Pt. II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to know which story you are most interested in seeing first! Let me know <3 <3 <3 (Or maybe you're like, Draco, for god's sake, stop writing fan fiction, please woman, you haven't been outside in five days).

What should the first sequel in this universe be? A lot of these two are written! I just don't know which to focus on first. 

 

1\. A Reylo one-shot, titled "What Ben Saw" It takes place between the engagement, and before Ben finds out about the engagement and briefly becomes Kylo Ren again. (Yes this is the vision he creepily threatened to show her, and it is half smut, half angst, all pain)

Preview: 

> Her small, warm hand covers his as he turns off the lights.
> 
> “Ben Solo,” she whispers. He turns to face her, and she’s beautiful in the starlight, her already lovely faced bathed in an otherworldly glow. He grits his teeth against the confessions he needs to make, has wanted to make for so long. “Don’t think for one second that I confuse you for Poe. I know you aren’t him. I want you – not because you aren’t _him,_ but because you’re _you._ You’re Ben. And I want you.”
> 
> “What?” His usually churning mind is still as the glass surface of an unmoving sea.
> 
> “Do you want me?” Rey looks unsure of herself now.
> 
> “Of course I do,” Ben scoffs once, a harsh sound for how soft the question makes him feel. “I always want you. Always.”
> 
> “Good,” Rey tugs the front of his robes, and he leans down to where she wants him. "So listen to me. I know what I want. And that's you." Rey’s lips are on his, and the heat of her mouth ignites something inside him he was convinced the First Order had killed.
> 
> His still-present fear, the one he has not been able to conquer, not even since his return to the light, fades into the back of his mind as he falls into the kiss. Ben cannot fear that he is a monster, not when his heart sings with the joy of Rey's mouth upon him, not when his blood surges in his veins, and his knees threaten to give out underneath him as the small scavenger makes him _hers._ Ben is not a Sith, not a legend, not the answer to a prophecy his grandfather failed to fulfill.
> 
> In Rey's arms, he is only human, after all. 
> 
>  

2\. A five-part (potentially one shot, potentially five chapters, idk) story about Poe and Rey's early marriage, and their attempts to conceive. Title TBD. Very sad at parts, very smutty in parts, very constant in the "god those two nerds love each other" department. 

 

Preview from Part IV (it gets a little #frisky): 

> Poe pulls her into his lap and begins to kiss her collarbone. He has not been awake to know it, not really, but he has missed his wife for months.
> 
> “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?’ Rey asks, her face anxious while she runs her fingers through his hair. She’s so unbearably close, sitting in his lap, unknowingly pushing her breasts up against him whenever she leans forward to kiss his hair, his forehead, his cheek.
> 
> Poe bucks his hips up, careful not to displace her, as a response. He manages to aim well enough that he brushes against her, right where he needs to be, wants to be. Rey’s fingers tighten against his scalp, which only makes him thrust up again, harder.
> 
> “Sunshine,” he pants. “I’m feeling just fine. I’d be feeling better if we were wearing less clothes.” He waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. Gods, he wants to fuck her so hard, wants her to ride him until they’re both seeing stars, wants to press her into the mattress until she doesn’t know anything except for pleasure and his name.
> 
> “But you’re okay?” Rey’s hands are on either side of his face, and when he looks at her, she’s crying. His mind immediately lets go of its wild imaginings, and centers solely on concern for her.
> 
> “Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong?”
> 
> “You almost died,” she says, leaning forward to tuck her face into his neck. Poe’s hands drift up and down her back, soothing her. She doesn’t say anymore. She can’t say anymore. The Bond throbs between them, and she does not have to say anymore. Poe knows.
> 
> He knows her better than anyone else.
> 
>  

P.S. I'm not saying there's a kid!fic in the work, but there's a kid!fic in the work 

 

(also Dad!Poe is some gooooood stuff)

**Author's Note:**

> ** = POV Change  
> *** = Time Jump
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> Thanks for reading! xx


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